nosleep

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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/HighestBounty on 2023-07-02 21:45:43+00:00.

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A rattle at the door snapped me awake. My head jolted upright, my vision blurry. The headache that followed yet another night of heavy drinking had already begun to kick in. I leaned forward on the armchair and rubbed my hands over my face, the bristles of an unkept beard irritated my palms like a wire brush. Closing my eyes, I fumbled for the TV remote on the small table at the side of me. A glass clattered onto the wooden surface and rolled with a muted thud onto the carpet, spilling the sickly smelling contents. I gripped the remote and sluggishly aimed it in the direction of the TV, hit the standby button and plunged the room into darkness.

The door rattled again, three knocks.

Pulling myself up from the chair, I stumbled as I stretched, sending an empty glass bottle of spirits rolling across the room. Steadying myself on the back of the armchair, I rubbed the back of my neck with one hand, the muscles ached.

The door rattled again, another three knocks.

"I'm coming! Give me chance!" I shouted, shuffling through the dark room to the doorway that lead to the hall. I ran my hand over the wall, searching for the hallway light switch, then flicked it on, wincing from the bright light.

Three more knocks.

"Bloody hell, I'm coming!" I exclaimed.

Using the banister of the staircase to steady myself, I reached out for the door handle. Too soon. Falling forward, my shoulder took the force as it smashed into the wooden door. I cried out, slumped to the ground and sat with my back against the door.

It rattled three more times, the vibrations ran up my spine. It was as if nails had been hammered into my forehead. I winced and held my head once more.

"Stop! I'm here!" I turned my head to the side and screamed at the door.

Rolling round so I was on all fours, I reached up for the handle and took it in one hand. As I tried to pull myself up with it, it turned and the door flew open. An ice cold breeze hit me like a wall. My teeth clenched and my bones froze. Then, it stopped, as quickly as it had started. Shivering, I stared outside at the porch. The Moonlight glistened silver off the wet pavement. Shadows of the crooked wooden fence stretched up the steps into the doorway. But nothing else. No one stood there. Pulling myself up onto my feet I peered outside, nothing.

"Hello?" I murmured, bewildered.

Nobody answered. Probably some kids playing tricks. I cursed out into the street and slammed the door. The key had fallen from the lock onto the mat, bending down, I picked it up and, after a few attempts, locked the door.

I stood facing the door, trying to work out what had just happened.

Three knocks again, just like before, this time, from behind me, up on the second floor, inside the house.

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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Many_Definition_6775 on 2023-07-02 21:30:15+00:00.

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I stumbled upon an old, abandoned mansion on the outskirts of town, its decaying façade barely standing against the test of time. Curiosity gripped me, beckoning me to explore its eerie halls and decaying rooms. As I cautiously entered, a shiver ran down my spine, as if the air itself whispered haunting secrets.

The dim light struggled to penetrate the thick layer of dust that coated every surface. Cobwebs stretched like gossamer tapestries, capturing the remnants of forgotten lives. The house seemed frozen in time, suspended in a perpetual state of decay. Each step I took echoed through the empty rooms, the sound mixing with the eerie silence that permeated the mansion.

As I ventured further, the shadows grew deeper, casting strange shapes upon the walls. The whispers seemed to intensify, their ethereal voices echoing in the recesses of my mind. It felt as if unseen eyes watched my every move, hidden within the encroaching darkness.

In one room, I stumbled upon a collection of faded books. Their spines cracked and weathered, the pages yellowed with age. As I leafed through them, the words seemed to shift and dance before my eyes, forming strange incantations and forbidden knowledge. The room grew colder, a chill that reached into my very bones, and I could almost hear the hushed whispers of ancient secrets, begging to be discovered.

A painting hung crookedly on a wall, its subject a pale-faced woman with an enigmatic smile. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her gaze; it seemed to follow me, penetrating my very soul. Suddenly, the painting slipped from its hook, crashing to the floor with a resounding thud. I stumbled backward, my heart racing, as if the spirit within the frame had been set free.

As I continued my exploration, strange noises filled the air—a distant laughter that faded into mournful cries, footsteps that echoed through the corridors, and hushed whispers that slithered through the silence. Each sound sent a chill down my spine, as if the house itself was alive, speaking in a language I couldn't comprehend.

In another room, I discovered an old photograph, the faces blurred with age. As I peered closer, the figures seemed to move, contorting their expressions into grotesque forms. The room grew colder, and a voice, soft as a breeze, whispered in my ear. Its words were indecipherable, but I could sense their urgency, an invitation to unravel the mysteries that lay hidden within the mansion's crumbling walls.

My heart raced as I pressed on, driven by a mix of fascination and trepidation. The mansion's history, its forgotten tales, seemed to seep into my consciousness, intertwining with my own thoughts. The boundaries between the past and present blurred, and I found myself experiencing fragments of the lives that had once inhabited this place.

In a forgotten corner, a hidden doorway beckoned me with an irresistible allure. I hesitated, knowing that crossing that threshold would lead me deeper into the heart of darkness. But my curiosity prevailed, and I stepped through, the air heavy with anticipation.

Beyond that secret passage, I discovered a chamber of mirrors. They lined the walls, reflecting distorted images of myself, as if mocking my very existence. The room pulsed with an otherworldly energy, and the whispers crescendoed into a chorus of spectral voices. Their words were indecipherable, yet I sensed their urgency, an urging to unlock the mysteries that lay hidden within the mansion's crumbling walls.

Time lost all meaning as I became absorbed in deciphering the enigmatic messages whispered by the house. Each revelation brought me closer to the brink of madness, yet I couldn't tear myself away. The veil between reality and nightmare grew thin, and I found myself questioning my own sanity.

But in the end, I managed to break free, stumbling back into the moonlit night, gasping for air as if emerging from a suffocating nightmare. The echoes of the mansion's whispers lingered, etching themselves into the depths of my soul. I knew I could never forget the chilling embrace of that place, the lingering presence of the tormented souls who still wander its decaying halls.

And so, I vowed to leave that mansion behind, its secrets forever entombed within its crumbling walls. But deep in the recesses of my mind, the whispers continue to haunt me, reminding me of the darkness that lies hidden, waiting for the unwary to stumble upon its chilling embrace.

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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/SunHeadPrime on 2023-07-02 20:57:31+00:00.

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I didn’t hear it, but I knew what had happened as soon as my car’s power steering turned sluggish. The serpentine belt had finally snapped. I knew it needed to be replaced, but I pushed it off until my next paycheck. I just didn’t have the extra cash to do it. If I had known it would strand me in the middle of nowhere, I would’ve asked someone to spot me the money. With great difficulty and a string of curse words, I pulled the car to the side of the road and rolled to a stop.

“Well, this sucks,” I mumbled, shutting off my engine.

My car had died in a stretch of dense woods just outside the city. It was the last vestige of mother nature in the surrounding area. These woods were preserved by some forward-thinking city councilman decades ago who suggested that it might be a good idea to not cut down every single tree within city limits. The dude was proven right, and the woods became a hiker’s dream, but, at the moment, I was less than thrilled with being here. It would take at least an hour for any wrecker to come save me. Maybe more.

I cursed again and shook my head. At the speed I was driving, I was a mere ten minutes from passing through the woods and five more from pulling into my driveway. Now, I was here for the foreseeable future. Worse, my phone signal was spotty, and I left my book at home. I would be alone with my thoughts until the tow truck arrived. A scary thought, indeed.

I tried calling my insurance, but my phone had trouble finding a network. I tried three times. One dropped the call immediately, one got to the menu before dropping, and one just rang and rang before disconnecting. I was gonna need to walk around until I found a signal, or else I’d be stuck out here forever. Traffic was slow at this time of night, and I imagined that the few cars that would pass by wouldn’t be too keen to stop to help.

After all, hundreds of horror stories start out that way.

I looked up to the sky and uttered a prayer to whoever was up there listening. “Send me some help, huh? Maybe a lost tow truck driver?”

About thirty feet behind me, red and blue lights started glowing. I looked up in my rearview and sighed. Yes, a cop could help, but they were last on my list of people I wanted to see. I’d rather see Bigfoot promising to throw me to safety than the boys in blue.

To say that I have a “strained” relationship with the police would be polite and way short of how I truly feel. It started when, at seven, I saw the cops illegally detain, search, and beat my dad during a routine traffic stop. Even with his wife and kids in the car, the cops accused him of having warrants (he didn’t) and of having concealed drugs in the car (again, he didn’t). They took him out, illegally searched him before claiming he was resisting, and threw him to the ground. He broke his arm in the encounter and was charged with resisting arrest and obstruction – both charges were later dropped. He had arm pain for the rest of his life, though.

According to the report, the reason for the initial stop was the unforgivable sin of failing to signal. His arm never worked right after that and was painful for the rest of his life.

There’s no feeling more helpless than watching uniformed men exact violence on a person you love, and you know there is nothing you can do to stop it. To watch a man you look up to, your own Superman, be made low by petty men hardens you. When you start with that as a foundational memory of the police, it’s not hard to see why I don’t back the blue.

I must’ve been inside my own head because I didn’t notice the figure walking up to the car until they were just behind my bumper. I rolled down my window and waited for them to ask for my license and registration. I tried not to look but kept peaking up in the rearview. After about a minute of waiting for the cop to come to my car, I started getting worried something nefarious was afoot. Why wasn’t this guy coming to my window?

“You lost?” a flat, monotone voice called out. It was the cop.

“No,” I said, trying to turn in my seat but not look like I was reaching for something. “Having car trouble.”

“Car trouble,” the cop repeated.

“Yep. I think it’s the serpentine belt,” not sure why I needed to add that extra information.

Suddenly, a bright beam shone through my back window and into the car. It scanned back and forth briefly before the cop asked, “Are you alone currently?”

That was an unsettling question. “I’m waiting on someone to come help. Should be here any minute now.”

“Need some help?”

“Not unless you have a spare serpentine belt and some tools.”

“I do not,” he said flatly before adding, “Are you currently alone?”

I swallowed. “No, you’re here too.”

He didn’t seem to appreciate my little joke. He reached for his sidearm and said, “Stay inside your car. Do not move.”

“I don’t have any weapons, man. That’s not necessary,” I pleaded.

“I am approaching your vehicle. Do not move,” the cop said, taking a few cautious steps toward me.

I froze but kept an eye on the rearview mirror. I wasn’t sure what this guy would do, but I feared it wouldn’t be amazing for me. I kept my hands on the wheel and prayed he didn’t pull out his gun. He got within two feet of my car and stopped. He kept his hand hovering near his gun.

“Why are you out here so late?”

“I was at work and lost track of time.”

“Do you live near these woods?”

That was an odd question, but I let it slide. “No,” I said, “I live in the suburbs up the road.”

“Suburbs,” he said as if it was the first time his mouth had tried uttering the phrase.

“Yep, suburbs,” I said as politely as I could muster.

“Are you alone currently?”

I was confused. He had to be able to see into my car. He had to see just one dude in here. Unless he thought I was hiding someone in my glove box, why did he keep asking me that? “Yes. For now.”

His radio squawked at his shoulder. He jerked like the noise spooked him. When he jumped, I gripped the steering wheel hard. I assumed he would do something violent and braced for the blow. It didn’t come, though. Instead, the cop plucked the radio off his shoulder and held it up to his face, confused.

“Units, be advised about a potential small aircraft crash in the woods near mile marker fifty-six along Lincoln highway. An investigative team is en route to confirm and establish a perimeter. Any nearby teams come back.”

I was on Lincoln Highway and hadn’t seen or heard any crash. When I pulled over, I had passed a marker for mile fifty-eight. There is no way a plane crashed, and I missed it. Did something else happen? I had just finished watching Chernobyl the other week, and the thought of a plane crash being cover for a more serious event seemed very plausible. Especially since I knew we were near some chemical factories. For a fleeting second, the thought of being strangled to death by toxic chemicals overtook my fear of being strangled by an overly aggressive cop.

“Should you guys go check that out?” I asked. “It’s not too far back.”

“There was no plane crash,” the cop said.

“Oh,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

“No crash,” he repeated.

“Okay...but,” I said, unable to help myself, “shouldn’t you, like, tell them that? So they don’t send a team out there for nothing?”

The cop stood up and stared out into the woods. Something had caught his attention. I turned towards the woods, hoping to get a glimpse, but I saw nothing. He pulled out his flashlight and shined it into the densely packed trees. He slowly scanned it from right to left as if he was looking for something.

“Did you hear something out there or…” I trailed off.

“Are you alone currently?” the cop asked again.

“Yes,” I said, my attention drifting to those dark woods. “Is there something out there?”

“Yes,” the cop said in his cold, flat way.

I swallowed hard. “What is it? A deer?” I asked, trying to remain hopeful.

The cop didn’t respond. He flashed his light five times in quick succession and then twice in slow bursts. It looked like a message in Morse code or something, but since I wasn’t a sailor or born at the turn of the last century, I had no idea. He did it once more before shutting the flashlight off for good.

I turned my attention away from the now-dark woods and back to the motionless cop. “What was that?” I asked.

“A signal to my partner,” the cop said.

“What partner?”

There was a tapping on my passenger glass. I snapped around and saw another cop standing next to my car. I hadn’t seen nor heard him approach. He never leaned down, so I didn’t get a good look at his face, but he seemed to move and behave like his partner. Also, like his partner, he kept his hand near his weapon.

“Please do not reach for anything,” the partner said in a similarly monotone voice. It almost sounded identical to the first cop.

Visions of my dad’s beating came to me at that moment. It might have been irrational to some people, but once you’ve been touched by state violence, it sticks with you. You can’t turn it off because it makes you uncomfortable. Regardless of the result, you’re forced to sit in it until the moment passes.

“I’m not reaching for anything. I’ve barely moved this entire stop,” I said, feeling my anger rising.

“Be mindful of your tone,” the first cop said.

I let out a laugh because this whole goddamn encounter was a joke. I knew a laugh, even a nervous one, was a trigger for some police, but I couldn’t help it. Sometimes the absurdity of li...

---

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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/AbbyHut on 2023-07-02 20:37:19+00:00.

---

“

"Bury me at the Grand Rosette"

____________________________________________________________________________

I had always recognized that there was something fishy about the job. I had been skeptical about taking it until the hiring manager discussed compensation.

“In addition to your generous base salary, you can expect to earn substantially more in tips. The Grand Rosette serves a very specific, very wealthy, very generous clientele, and even our most disliked managers have taken home at least fifty thousand dollars per month. Some have received much more. We don't put that in the job posting since we don't want to attract the wrong type of person, but suffice to say you will be very well compensated for any of the job's peculiarities.”

The job certainly had peculiarities. For one, “manager” was my official job title, but I was effectively also the bellhop, concierge, housekeeper, chef, and receptionist - in fact, I was the only employee present in the hotel. The hiring manager had assured me that this wouldn't be too much to handle: there were rarely more than a few guests present at a time, and they wouldn't get fussy if I couldn't be overly attentive. For the most part, she was right.

There was one major exception, as the previous manager informed me on the day I arrived at the hotel. "Yes, the guests won't be demanding, but if a guest does demand something of you, you have to accommodate them. Drop everything, if you have to. Even if the request seems silly, or if it requires you to ignore your normal hotel duties, you do it. That's the type of service that the generosity of the Rosette patrons buys." This struck me as being a little concerning, but I figured I could always just leave if a guest asked me to do something I wasn’t comfortable with.

____________________________________________________________________________

It was for one of these special requests that I now found myself in the middle of the wilderness with Auntie Estelle.

____________________________________________________________________________

Estelle had been the first guest to check in after my arrival.

She looked to be about fifty, in a way that suggested that she was probably at least sixty. She had a cackling laugh, and she loved to use it - she found my lame jokes hilarious, for some reason. It was just me and her in the hotel for a while, so we spent most of our evenings together; she appreciated the company, and I found her fascinating. She was the type of older figure who had a lot of life experience and wisdom to share, but was equally willing to listen and never presumed to know better than you. We would play cards while she regaled me with casual advice and tales from her past: hobbies learned and lost, ill-advised adventures, old lovers, and The Festival.

A few of the peculiarities of the hotel seemingly had something to do with The Festival. As far as I could surmise, it was an event that was held at the Grand Rosette sometime in the past, maybe five, ten, or twenty years ago: the stories were never really clear. Every present-day hotel guest had attended The Festival, apparently, and most would mention it at least once in passing. "Don't ask about The Festival," the previous manager had advised me. "Smile and nod if a guest tells you about it, but don't ask follow-up questions or dwell too hard on it. Actually, try not to ask questions in general."

Estelle mentioned The Festival often, but mostly in passing and never in much detail. For instance, she told me a story about going skydiving, and ended it by saying "that was the most exciting experience I've had since The Festival" - most of her references were like that. My best guess from context was that it was a Woodstock-type event with some sort of New Age spiritual component, but I had no strong evidence for that assumption. Again, I was asked not to inquire further, so I didn't.

It was a month into her stay that Estelle asked me to call her Auntie Estelle. "I don't have any family left, hon, and you're a wonderful kid, so it'd mean a lot if I could leave a little of me behind with you." I was more than happy to oblige. She mentioned offhand the next month that I had been written into her will, which was a very touching bonus.

Even as the months went by and other guests checked in and out, Auntie Estelle stuck around. She was a welcome constant, and I'm not sure if I could have handled the place without her. The hotel had... other peculiarities, that the previous manager and hiring manager had not informed me about. I could only attribute their negligence to willful malice - if I had known about this side of the job, it could have persuaded me not to take it.

The first peculiarity was the hotel’s other visitors.

As I mentioned, the hotel guests all had a few things in common: they were wealthy, polite, never made trouble, and had attended The Festival. However, they were not the only people on the property.

My first encounter happened soon after I arrived. I was pruning the bushes by the pool deck, while Estelle sat on a lounge chair nearby. Something moved in my peripheral vision. I glanced towards the treeline. A person was standing there.

For a few moments, I just watched. I didn’t know this person - his clothes were tattered, and his skin was as white as bone. He was staring at me, mouthing something. A strange dread crept up my back. My body shook, but otherwise I was frozen.

Estelle broke me out of my trance. "Calm down, hon, it’s just a visitor. They’re not any danger, just keep your eye on ‘em, they’ll get a little riled up if your back is turned. If it’s gettin’ to you, just go inside. They’ll go away on their own."

She shook her head solemnly. “Poor dears.”

I kept staring, transfixed, until the man turned around and walked back into the trees.

She brought up the event again at dinner.

“Sorry about the visitor, hon. The last manager should have told you, but they never do. If you see anything else like that, I’m happy to help you, hon. Just don’t ask me about it. You can tell me about it, but never a question, mhm?”

“And don’t ask me why that is, either.” She cackled a little at her own semi-joke.

I saw a few more visitors after that. They all looked similar - gaunt faces, tattered clothing - but I don’t think I ever saw the same one twice. Estelle gave me a few more pieces of advice - some unprompted, some in response to strange events.

“Don’t look towards that part of the forest for a while - it’s not dangerous, you just won’t like what you see,” when I noticed a stack of three boulders in the treeline - they were far too big to be moved manually and they hadn’t been there before.

“Go to bed before midnight and have some herbal tea when you do,” when I started seeing faces in the trees.

“That’s just a wild animal, hon,” when I mentioned the scratching I kept hearing on the outer walls.

“If you hear tapping on the skylight, don’t look up.” She offered this unprompted, and it confused me a little - the hotel didn’t have a skylight, and I never heard any tapping.

In general, none of the oddities seemed dangerous, they were just really, really off putting. With Estelle around, I was never too worried.

____________________________________________________________________________

Now she was gone, and I was all alone.

____________________________________________________________________________

I already mentioned the rule about requests. If a guest made a request of me, I had to follow it. There were plenty of benign requests - bring me more towels, please clean the bathroom, et cetera - but frankly far fewer than you’d expect in a normal hotel. The big requests happened very infrequently - I think I received five in total, over my seven months of employment.

The first one was from Rick, a middle-aged man whose most memorable characteristic was that he went for a jog at least twice a day. While I was sweeping the patio, he told me to dive into the pool and hold my breath for as long as I could. This sounded like the setup to a murder, but Rick had seemed trustworthy so far and Estelle was with us, so I figured I shouldn’t be in any danger.

So I humored him and took a swan dive into the pool, staying under for as long as I could. After about a minute, I still didn’t have any strong urge to surface for air. After five minutes, the same thing. At ten minutes, I counted my fingers and pinched myself, confirming that I was awake and lucid. It seemed I was. I went through my multiplication tables in my head - no issues there, my brain wasn’t fuzzy. I definitely wasn’t breathing, and I felt a slight pressure in my lungs, which wasn’t comfortable, but I didn’t feel any panic. So I stayed there, as minutes blended into hours.

I woke up to the sensation of my face clearing the water’s surface. I hadn’t realized I’d fallen asleep. It had been midday when I jumped into the pool, and now it was sunrise. Rick was still standing on the pool deck. “Good job, champ,” he said as he extended his hand, grabbing me and pulling me out. “I can’t fault you for surfacing while you were asleep. Couldn’t have done i...

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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Carbodex on 2023-07-02 20:34:51+00:00.

---

At the tender age of twelve, most kids are preoccupied with school, cartoons, and first crushes. In the sleepy town of Willow Creek, nestled between expansive forests and tranquil hills, I was no different. Except for one aspect – my fascination with Mr. Edwards, our seemingly harmless next-door neighbor.

It was a balmy summer in 1999 when my curiosity started to turn into unease. Mr. Edwards, a widower and a retired police officer, was a familiar figure in Willow Creek. His once strong frame was now stooped with age, his eyes often far away as if lost in the world of yesteryears. Yet, there was a certain charisma to him that belied his mundane appearance.

One evening, while playing in our backyard, I noticed Mr. Edwards digging in his garden. It wasn't unusual for him to indulge in late-evening gardening, but something was different that day. His usual calm demeanor was replaced by an anxious look, his forehead beaded with sweat. He was digging a pit, much larger and deeper than needed for any plant.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, a chilling breeze swept over Willow Creek, carrying with it an eerie sense of foreboding. I watched, my curiosity piqued as Mr. Edwards continued to dig. When he was finally done, he looked around, his eyes finding mine in the dwindling twilight. He gave me a long, hard stare before abruptly going inside his house.

The next day, our peaceful town was stirred with the news of a missing person. Alice, a classmate of mine, had vanished without a trace. The news hit me like a punch in the gut, but my mind kept darting back to the sight of Mr. Edwards digging that deep pit in his garden.

Sleep became elusive as my mind teetered on the edge of a frightening revelation. Had Mr. Edwards done something to Alice? The thought was horrifying, but my twelve-year-old brain couldn't shake it off. The pit in his garden, his unnerving glance, and Alice's disappearance – everything seemed to connect, forming a terrifying picture.

Days turned into weeks, but there was no news of Alice. Our small town was shrouded in sorrow and fear. Parents clung tighter to their children, and the playful cheer that once filled the streets of Willow Creek was replaced by deafening silence. I decided I needed to find out what happened, not just for Alice, but for all of us. My quest for the truth was about to lead me down a path from which there was no return. Little did I know, I was about to face the most horrifying ordeal of my life.

It was a Saturday, three weeks after Alice's disappearance. My parents were visiting relatives in the next town, leaving me home alone for the afternoon. Gathering all my courage, I decided to sneak into Mr. Edwards' garden. I armed myself with my dad's old flashlight and my baseball bat, a poor defense against an ex-police officer, but it was all I had.

The summer heat had mellowed down into a warm, balmy afternoon. A sense of stillness hung in the air, as if the entire universe was holding its breath. I made my way around the block, so as not to arouse suspicion, and entered Mr. Edwards' backyard through a small opening in the hedge. His garden was unusually quiet, the usual chatter of birds and rustling leaves silenced.

I could see the pit from where I stood, a gaping void in the well-tended garden. My heart pounded in my chest as I approached it, my mind spinning with a thousand dreadful possibilities. Cautiously, I shone my flashlight into the pit.

It was empty.

A wave of relief washed over me. But just as I was about to turn away, something caught my eye. A piece of fabric sticking out from the loose soil near the pit. It was a small, pink piece of cloth with a familiar pattern – white daisies. Alice's favorite. She had a dress with the exact same pattern. My blood ran cold as I held the piece of fabric in my trembling hands. Just then, I heard the back door of the house creak open. My heart hammered in my chest as I quickly ducked behind a large rose bush, the thorns digging into my skin. Through the thicket of roses, I watched as Mr. Edwards, a shovel in hand, walked towards the pit. His face, usually friendly and warm, was an unreadable mask.

I felt a chill run down my spine as I watched him fill the pit with soil, his actions deliberate. Once he was done, he took a long look around before going back inside the house. As soon as the coast was clear, I bolted from my hiding spot and ran all the way back home.

With the piece of Alice's dress in my hand and the haunting image of Mr. Edwards filling up the pit etched in my mind, the horrifying truth was undeniable. Something terrible had happened, and I knew I was in way over my head. I needed to alert the authorities, but would they believe a twelve-year-old? I was on the precipice of a horrific discovery, teetering between the innocence of childhood and a nightmare too ghastly to comprehend.

As I sat alone in my room, the piece of Alice's dress felt heavy in my hand. The weight of the situation was slowly sinking in. The once familiar walls of my bedroom seemed ominous, closing in on me. The cheerful chime of my video games echoed hollowly in the dread-filled silence. Everything had changed.

The fear gnawed at me, but I knew I had to act. Fumbling with my dad’s old cell phone, I dialed the only number I knew could help - 911. My voice trembled as I explained what I'd discovered, my words tumbling over each other in my haste. The operator reassured me, promising that the police would check Mr. Edwards' house immediately.

An eternity seemed to pass before I saw the flashing lights of the police cars pull up outside Mr. Edwards' house. I watched from behind the safety of my curtain as they knocked on his door, only to receive no response. They forced their way inside, and I held my breath, waiting.

Minutes later, they reemerged with Mr. Edwards in handcuffs. His face was pale, his usual friendly demeanor replaced by a mask of shock and defeat. As they escorted him into a police car, an officer remained behind, taping off the property.

News of Mr. Edwards' arrest spread through our small town like wildfire. The next day, the local news reported that the police had discovered evidence in his house that connected him to Alice's disappearance. The town was in a state of shock; nobody could believe that the kind, helpful Mr. Edwards was capable of such a heinous act.

The following weeks were a blur of police visits, news interviews, and sleepless nights. Life as I knew it had been irrevocably changed. But amidst the horror and disbelief, there was a glimmer of justice. Alice's disappearance wasn't forgotten, and Mr. Edwards would pay for his crimes.

I often think back to that fateful summer when I was twelve years old. It was a harsh introduction to the darker side of humanity, a loss of innocence that I can never reclaim. But it was also a testament to the truth, however gruesome it may be, and the strength it takes to bring it to light.

The image of Mr. Edwards filling that pit still haunts me. But I also remember the piece of Alice's dress in my hand, the flickering lights of the police cars, and the promise of justice. And I'm reminded that even in the face of unspeakable horror, we have the power to fight back, to expose the truth, and to ensure that no evil goes unpunished.

Because sometimes, the monsters are not under our bed or in our closets. They are walking among us, hidden behind the guise of normality. And it is up to us to unmask them.

This is an automated archive.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Shoddy_Virus6662 on 2023-07-02 20:12:47+00:00.

---

It was an ordinary evening when I arrived home to an empty house. The silence was unsettling, as if something was amiss. My wife, usually bustling with activity, was nowhere to be found. Anxiety gnawed at my gut as I called out her name, but my voice echoed back, unanswered.

I embarked on a frantic search, scouring every room for a trace of her presence. Yet, it was as if she had vanished into thin air. Panic set in, and I reached for my phone to dial the authorities. But just as my fingers brushed the screen, a cold breeze swept through the house, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.

Shadows danced along the walls, their movements fluid and unnatural. The air grew heavy with an oppressive energy, making it difficult to breathe. I stumbled backward, my heart pounding with fear.

In a desperate attempt to make sense of the situation, I retraced my steps, moving cautiously through the rooms. But with each passing moment, the house seemed to shift and contort, as if taunting me with its enigma. Doors creaked open and shut on their own, and whispers echoed through the empty corridors.

Determined to find my wife, I ventured into the basement—a place I had always found eerie. The flickering lights cast unsettling shadows across the concrete walls. The temperature plummeted, and I could see my breath in the chilled air.

A foreboding presence hung in the dimness, causing my heart to race. The whispers grew louder, their words indecipherable yet filled with a sense of urgency. Shadows writhed and twisted, morphing into grotesque shapes that danced just beyond my line of sight.

With trepidation, I stepped forward, peering into the darkness. My wife's name trembled on my lips as I called out to her. But instead of her voice, a haunting echo filled the space, sending shivers down my spine.

As I continued my descent into the depths of the basement, the shadows deepened, swallowing the feeble light. Fear tightened its grip around me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the darkness—a silhouette, barely discernible. It flickered like a dying flame, fading in and out of existence. My heart seized with a mixture of hope and terror.

I approached, my steps hesitant. The figure reached out, its hand stretching toward me. But as I moved closer, it disintegrated, dissolving into nothingness. My wife's essence, once within my grasp, slipped away like smoke through my fingers.

Defeated, I stumbled back, retreating from the enigmatic forces that plagued my home. The shadows continued their macabre dance, mocking me with their inscrutable secrets. I realized then that my wife was lost to me, trapped within the ethereal realm that had engulfed our lives.

Days turned into weeks, and the house remained haunted by the memories of her presence. I was left with an ache in my heart and an unrelenting yearning for answers. The whispers persisted, a constant reminder of the unseen forces that governed our reality.

In the end, I had no choice but to leave that house behind, for it had become a labyrinth of darkness and despair. I carried the weight of the unknown with me, haunted by the fading shadows of a life that had slipped through my fingers.

To this day, I can still hear the echoes of her voice and catch glimpses of her ethereal form in my dreams. The paranormal enigma that engulfed our home remains unsolved, a chilling reminder of the fragile nature of our existence and the inexplicable mysteries that can shatter our sense of reality. (Sorry this wasn't amazing this is my first time trying to create one of these and it's kind of mooched)

This is an automated archive.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/StruggleBloop on 2023-07-02 19:45:48+00:00.

---

Something happened to my friends on our camping trip, now I’m next.

Me and my three buddies usually hang out every weekend on our days off work, we hunt some deer and bucks, and sometimes we go fishing and shit like that. Couple’ of weekends ago we had a cookout by the creek, nothin big. Just us and a couple of more buddies.

This weekend coming we’ve decided to go camping, we all took the Monday after off so we can camp for three days and two nights. We haven’t actually been camping with each other since we were lil’ kids back when our daddies use to take us and we’d make some hotdogs and burgers on the grill we took with us.

The whole reason we even wanted to go camping is so we can remember the good ol’ days. It’s nothing large, we’re not driving hours away or nothin. We’re just going in the woods, maybe 30 minutes or so away from the nearest road.

“Alright, man. I got the buns and wieners, who’s gettin’ the burgers and shit to go on them?” I hold my phone with one hand, while I grab the hotdog and hamburger buns with my other.

I ain’t made of money, so I can’t buy everything. We spilt it up, we each buy our own tent and sleeping bags; then we each split up to buy the food.

“Man, I told ya, I’m getting the burgers and lettuce and all that other shit to put on it,” That was Ron, he’s the one I’m talking to on the phone. “Danny and JonJon are gonna buy the pops and beer.”

Danny is Ron’s brother, the oldest of us. Only by four years, but older.

“Alright man, I’ll talk to you later, I gotta go pay for this crap.” I hang up the phone and make my damn way to the cashier, I throw my stuff down on it.

“Having a cookout?” The cashier, some woman in her thirties, asks. Damn, I wish she’d just do her damn job instead of talking. Scan the shit, and stop makin’ conversations.

“Yeah, we’re goin camping in the Red woods.” At hearing the name Red woods, she stopped scanning.

“You sure you wanna do that? Heard some damn of a hella lot of stories about that place.” Damn, why’d she’d have to go make it her business.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.” I made it very damn clear that I wasn’t interested in anything other than her scanning my shit and giving me my total.

She took the damn hint, finally, and quit talking. My total came out to 17.46 which was fucking ridiculous. Those damn buns went up 7 cents since I last bought them, and don’t even get me started on the fucking wieners. What’s the point of working if your entire paycheck is gone by the time you buy a weeks worth of food. This damn world has gone to shit in a handbag.

I don’t know what she meant by no damn stories either. I ain’t heard shit about the Red woods, ever; then again I wasn’t exactly lookin’.

That weekend we all met up at Ron’s house, and we drove in his car to the nearest road before you go into the woods. We parked, got our shit together, and went to go set up. We decided to set everything up before we started havin fun.

We made it to the spot we wanted to camp at and started setting shit up, we each went to work putting our tents up.

“Damnit! My fuckin fingers bleedin now.” I heard Ron grumbling about pricking his finger on a piece of glass in the ground or something.

Then stupid ass JonJon goes along behind him and does the exact same thing. Talk about dumb.

“Shit!” I see him put his finger in his mouth to get the blood off, what a bunch of dumbasses. “Fucking glass, man.” He kicks it with his boots.

After we set up, Ron and JonJon went to see if they can find a spot to fish. Like a creek or small river. If they end up finding a good spot we all plan on fishin.

Me and Danny go looking to see if we can find any traces of a buck or deer, we brought our hunting riffles just in case.

We’ve only been walking for about 6 minutes and so far they ain’t shit pointing to any signs of deers bein’ here.

Which is straight up fucking weird. Deers are like fucking everywhere, so why ain’t there non here?

“Ron and JonJon are two morons sharing the same braincell ain’t they?” Danny and me have always been closer then those two, I mean we’re all friends me and Danny are just best friends.

“Ohhh yeah, they are.” I agree with him, because it’s true. They’ve never been the brightest crayon in the bunch.

“Hey man, what are those?” I point at the tracks on the ground.

They don’t look like deer tracks, I’ve never seen anything like them before.

It’s like a humans bare foot except where the toes would be are what I assume are long claws.

“Huh, Doesn’t look like nothin I’ve ever seen, a messed up coyote or something?” He bends down to poke at it, and to get a closer look.

“Or something, that’s definitely no coyote.” There’s pieces of glass laying around, the same glass Ron and JonJon pricked themselves on.

We choose to ignore it, thinking it’s some sort of prank, like those Bigfoot tracks people use to make to convince others there was really something such as a Bigfoot out there.

Fucking imbeciles with their shitty pranks.

We ended up following the tracks, just for jun. they didn’t go on for very long after we first found them; we only followed them for around a minute or two before they disappeared.

The tracks disappeared at a tree, as if whoever made them climbed the tree. There was nothing in the tree, which was the real strange part.

“That’s fucking weird, where’d they fuckin go?” Danny is looking up into the tree, trying to see if they’re any signs of someone previously being in it.

“I don’t know, man.” I say, looking around the tree for other tracks we might not of noticed before. “But I sure don’t think there’s any deer here, we should go back.” I say it like a fact, as if I’m only wanting to go back because I know there’s no deer to hunt.

It’s just a coverup, to hide the fact I’m freaked out. I mean, people can’t just disappear in thin air, they should be tracks.

“Yeah, man. Guess we brought those hunting rifles for nothin’ huh?” We start walking back to where we set up camp, when we hear a strange noise.

We can’t figure out what it is, it’s like someone stepping on sticks and kicking a rock at the same time. But it sounds so distant, if we started speed walking, then it’s nobody’s damn business.

We made it back to camp in record time.

“Did y’all find any place to go fishin?” I asked sitting down beside Ron.

“No man, did y’all find any signs of deer?” He’s messing with his finger, the one he pricked on the glass. It already looks infected, I bet he’ll have to go to the doctor over that later.

“Man, it’s a shit show out here. It’s like no animals live here,” I throw my hands in the air, and let out a sigh “but guess what we did find.” I tell him and JonJon about the tracks and how they disappeared. He agreed that it was strange.

We didn’t end up fishing or hunting, but we still had fun. We told stories about ourselves, funny stuff about when we were drunk, and stuff about woman we’ve dated.

We ended up going asleep around midnight, we didn’t get too drunk just a little tipsy. We didn’t want to drink all the beer the first night.

“Dude!” I feel hands around my shoulders shaking me, I don’t understand why or what’s happening I try mumbling a ‘what’s going on’ but it comes out incoherent in my half asleep state.

“Dude wake your ass up!” At that my eyes finally snap open, I shove Danny’s hands away in confusion.

“What the fuck are you doing man?” I snapped at him, it’s in the middle of the damn night. What’s he doing shaking me awake like this?

“I’ve been trying to wake you up for 30 fuckin’ minutes!” He throws in hands in the air like he’s annoyed, as if I’m the one shaking him awake in the middle of the night for no apparent reason.

“No shit! Why?” He better have a damn good reason why.

“Ron and JonJon are gone, they aren’t in their tent.” What? At that I stand up, walking out of my tent and going into theirs. Sure enough, they weren’t there.

“What the fuck? Where’d they go?” I’m confused and angry, we had paper we were supposed to write on if we were leaving to use the bathroom or something so the others didn’t get worried, obviously they didn’t fucking care.

“If I knew do you think I’d have woken you up?”

We spent hours looking for them, literal hours. We couldn’t find them. No signs even showed they had left. No tracks, no nothing.

We eventually stopped looking and went back to our tents.

“What the fuck!” I hear Danny yell, he was a few feet ahead of me so I didn’t know why, I speed up to see and there, in front of their tents, stand Ron and JonJon.

Danny continues to scream and yell at them, but I’m too busy. Too busy staring at their faces, the way they don’t even acknowledge us. They have no reaction to hun screaming whatsoever. It’s like they’re dolls.

SWOOSH

“What the hell!” Both mine and Danny’s heads snap to where the sound came from, we couldn’t see anything at first. But a few moments later, there it was.

“Holy shit, what the flying fuck is that!” Danny’s mouth is wide open, in shock. Im sure mine is to.

It looks like a human, just with unnaturally long legs, and it’s far away in the distance but we can tell it has no clothes on. It’s swinging tree to tree. It’s not human, no human can do that. The swooshing sound is the sound of the tree limbs bending when it jumps to another one.

“Holy shit, we’ve gotta get out of here!” I scream, I run to Ron and JonJon and start shaking them. They still have no reaction to anything going on around them. “What..?” I’m in shock, I’m confused, scared, and so s...

---

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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/StruggleBloop on 2023-07-02 19:09:34+00:00.

---

Me and my three buddies usually hang out every weekend on our days off work, we hunt some deer and bucks, and sometimes we go fishing and shit like that. Couple’ of weekends ago we had a cookout by the creek, nothin big. Just us and a couple of more buddies.

This weekend coming we’ve decided to go camping, we all took the Monday after off so we can camp for three days and two nights. We haven’t actually been camping with each other since we were lil’ kids back when our daddies use to take us and we’d make some hotdogs and burgers on the grill we took with us.

The whole reason we even wanted to go camping is so we can remember the good ol’ days. It’s nothing large, we’re not driving hours away or nothin. We’re just going in the woods, maybe 30 minutes or so away from the nearest road.

“Alright, man. I got the buns and wieners, who’s gettin’ the burgers and shit to go on them?” I hold my phone with one hand, while I grab the hotdog and hamburger buns with my other.

I ain’t made of money, so I can’t buy everything. We spilt it up, we each buy our own tent and sleeping bags; then we each split up to buy the food.

“Man, I told ya, I’m getting the burgers and lettuce and all that other shit to put on it,” That was Ron, he’s the one I’m talking to on the phone. “Danny and JonJon are gonna buy the pops and beer.”

Danny is Ron’s brother, the oldest of us. Only by four years, but older.

“Alright man, I’ll talk to you later, I gotta go pay for this crap.” I hang up the phone and make my damn way to the cashier, I throw my stuff down on it.

“Having a cookout?” The cashier, some woman in her thirties, asks. Damn, I wish she’d just do her damn job instead of talking. Scan the shit, and stop makin’ conversations.

“Yeah, we’re goin camping in the Red woods.” At hearing the name Red woods, she stopped scanning.

“You sure you wanna do that? Heard some damn of a hella lot of stories about that place.” Damn, why’d she’d have to go make it her business.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.” I made it very damn clear that I wasn’t interested in anything other than her scanning my shit and giving me my total.

She took the damn hint, finally, and quit talking. My total came out to 17.46 which was fucking ridiculous. Those damn buns went up 7 cents since I last bought them, and don’t even get me started on the fucking wieners. What’s the point of working if your entire paycheck is gone by the time you buy a weeks worth of food. This damn world has gone to shit in a handbag.

I don’t know what she meant by no damn stories either. I ain’t heard shit about the Red woods, ever; then again I wasn’t exactly lookin’.

That weekend we all met up at Ron’s house, and we drove in his car to the nearest road before you go into the woods. We parked, got our shit together, and went to go set up. We decided to set everything up before we started havin fun.

We made it to the spot we wanted to camp at and started setting shit up, we each went to work putting our tents up.

“Damnit! My fuckin fingers bleedin now.” I heard Ron grumbling about pricking his finger on a piece of glass in the ground or something.

Then stupid ass JonJon goes along behind him and does the exact same thing. Talk about dumb.

“Shit!” I see him put his finger in his mouth to get the blood off, what a bunch of dumbasses. “Fucking glass, man.” He kicks it with his boots.

After we set up, Ron and JonJon went to see if they can find a spot to fish. Like a creek or small river. If they end up finding a good spot we all plan on fishin.

Me and Danny go looking to see if we can find any traces of a buck or deer, we brought our hunting riffles just in case.

We’ve only been walking for about 6 minutes and so far they ain’t shit pointing to any signs of deers bein’ here.

Which is straight up fucking weird. Deers are like fucking everywhere, so why ain’t there non here?

“Ron and JonJon are two morons sharing the same braincell ain’t they?” Danny and me have always been closer then those two, I mean we’re all friends me and Danny are just best friends.

“Ohhh yeah, they are.” I agree with him, because it’s true. They’ve never been the brightest crayon in the bunch.

“Hey man, what are those?” I point at the tracks on the ground.

They don’t look like deer tracks, I’ve never seen anything like them before.

It’s like a humans bare foot except where the toes would be are what I assume are long claws.

“Huh, Doesn’t look like nothin I’ve ever seen, a messed up coyote or something?” He bends down to poke at it, and to get a closer look.

“Or something, that’s definitely no coyote.” There’s pieces of glass laying around, the same glass Ron and JonJon pricked themselves on.

We choose to ignore it, thinking it’s some sort of prank, like those Bigfoot tracks people use to make to convince others there was really something such as a Bigfoot out there.

Fucking imbeciles with their shitty pranks.

We ended up following the tracks, just for jun. they didn’t go on for very long after we first found them; we only followed them for around a minute or two before they disappeared.

The tracks disappeared at a tree, as if whoever made them climbed the tree. There was nothing in the tree, which was the real strange part.

“That’s fucking weird, where’d they fuckin go?” Danny is looking up into the tree, trying to see if they’re any signs of someone previously being in it.

“I don’t know, man.” I say, looking around the tree for other tracks we might not of noticed before. “But I sure don’t think there’s any deer here, we should go back.” I say it like a fact, as if I’m only wanting to go back because I know there’s no deer to hunt.

It’s just a coverup, to hide the fact I’m freaked out. I mean, people can’t just disappear in thin air, they should be tracks.

“Yeah, man. Guess we brought those hunting rifles for nothin’ huh?” We start walking back to where we set up camp, when we hear a strange noise.

We can’t figure out what it is, it’s like someone stepping on sticks and kicking a rock at the same time. But it sounds so distant, if we started speed walking, then it’s nobody’s damn business.

We made it back to camp in record time.

“Did y’all find any place to go fishin?” I asked sitting down beside Ron.

“No man, did y’all find any signs of deer?” He’s messing with his finger, the one he pricked on the glass. It already looks infected, I bet he’ll have to go to the doctor over that later.

“Man, it’s a shit show out here. It’s like no animals live here,” I throw my hands in the air, and let out a sigh “but guess what we did find.” I tell him and JonJon about the tracks and how they disappeared. He agreed that it was strange.

We didn’t end up fishing or hunting, but we still had fun. We told stories about ourselves, funny stuff about when we were drunk, and stuff about woman we’ve dated.

We ended up going asleep around midnight, we didn’t get too drunk just a little tipsy. We didn’t want to drink all the beer the first night.

“Dude!” I feel hands around my shoulders shaking me, I don’t understand why or what’s happening I try mumbling a ‘what’s going on’ but it comes out incoherent in my half asleep state.

“Dude wake your ass up!” At that my eyes finally snap open, I shove Danny’s hands away in confusion.

“What the fuck are you doing man?” I snapped at him, it’s in the middle of the damn night. What’s he doing shaking me awake like this?

“I’ve been trying to wake you up for 30 fuckin’ minutes!” He throws in hands in the air like he’s annoyed, as if I’m the one shaking him awake in the middle of the night for no apparent reason.

“No shit! Why?” He better have a damn good reason why.

“Ron and JonJon are gone, they aren’t in their tent.” What? At that I stand up, walking out of my tent and going into theirs. Sure enough, they weren’t there.

“What the fuck? Where’d they go?” I’m confused and angry, we had paper we were supposed to write on if we were leaving to use the bathroom or something so the others didn’t get worried, obviously they didn’t fucking care.

“If I knew do you think I’d have woken you up?”

We spent hours looking for them, literal hours. We couldn’t find them. No signs even showed they had left. No tracks, no nothing.

We eventually stopped looking and went back to our tents.

“What the fuck!” I hear Danny yell, he was a few feet ahead of me so I didn’t know why, I speed up to see and there, in front of their tents, stand Ron and JonJon.

Danny continues to scream and yell at them, but I’m too busy. Too busy staring at their faces, the way they don’t even acknowledge us. They have no reaction to hun screaming whatsoever. It’s like they’re dolls.

SWOOSH

“What the hell!” Both mine and Danny’s heads snap to where the sound came from, we couldn’t see anything at first. But a few moments later, there it was.

“Holy shit, what the flying fuck is that!” Danny’s mouth is wide open, in shock. Im sure mine is to.

It looks like a human, just with unnaturally long legs, and it’s far away in the distance but we can tell it has no clothes on. It’s swinging tree to tree. It’s not human, no human can do that. The swooshing sound is the sound of the tree limbs bending when it jumps to another one.

“Holy shit, we’ve gotta get out of here!” I scream, I run to Ron and JonJon and start shaking them. They still have no reaction to anything going on around them. “What..?” I’m in shock, I’m confused, scared, and so so confused.

When I shook them their body’s just fell to the ground,...

---

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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Inevitable_Score_725 on 2023-07-02 19:03:23+00:00.

---

The story I'm about to tell you happened back in '96. Like 1996. I was 12 then. A young, carefree kid in middle school. I lived in a small town in New Jersey, where nothing really went on. Come to think of it, the town wasn't really known for anything at all. It was just a small suburb, wedged between Wyckoff and Ridgewood.

It was a cold January, and I had friends over: Andy and Klara. They had been my friends since childhood. We bonded pretty quick, since we were the only Asian kids in the town. We were playing with the PlayStation, which mind you was pretty popular at the time, when my older sister Jane walked into the room with her boyfriend Lewis.

"Mom said you couldn't play video games after 10!" Jane yelled at me. Lewis was trying not to laugh.

"Well Mom is away on a trip," I said, which was true. My parents were away on a business trip.

"Well Mom and Dad left me in charge, and I demand you turn that off," Jane yelled at me. Lewis couldn't hold it in. He burst out laughing.

"What are you laughing about?" I asked Lewis.

"Sorry, sorry," Lewis said, speaking in a soft British accent. His family was from London, and he had moved here a couple of months ago. He and Jane hit it off pretty quick.

"Well can you give me like ten minutes and then I'll let you have the room for yourself?" I asked. Jane groaned.

"Fine," Jane said. "But I'm keeping time!"

I went back to playing with my Playstation. Andy snickered a little bit.

"What are YOU laughing at?" I asked Andy, annoyed.

"Your sister's kind of hot," Andy said, bursting out laughing after finishing the sentence. Klara was laughing too.

"Why is that funny?" I asked.

"Well, you know," Andy said.

"No I don't..."

"GUYS!"

I turned back to the TV. The TV was emitting a orange light.

"What the heck?" I said, pushing the buttons on the controller. Nothing worked. The orange light was still on the TV.

There was a sudden jolt, and I fell back. The whole house was shaking, like someone was violently shaking it back and forth. I stumbled out of the room and saw Jane and Lewis falling off the couch, shaking violently. The shaking suddenly stopped. I ran downstairs and hugged Jane.

"Why are you hugging me?" Jane asked, clearly disgusted.

"I'm just glad you're ok," I said.

"Was that an earthquake?" Andy asked, rushing downstairs.

"No," Lewis said. "Earthquakes don't happen here,"

A orange light suddenly blinded my eyes, and a deep sound echoed throughout the house. The light was everywhere, hitting every single window in the house. I stumbled back, unable to see anything. Eventually, my eyes adjusted to the light, and I saw Lewis running to the kitchen and grabbing a knife.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" Andy yelled.

"I DON'T KNOW!" Jane screamed.

"WAIT WHERE'S KLARA?!?!" I yelled at Andy.

"SHE'S STILL UPSTAIRS!" Andy yelled back. I immediately ran upstairs.

"KLARA! KLARA!" I yelled, then stopped. Klara was hovering in midair, her eyes glowing orange. She was staring at the ceiling, her mouth open, not moving, just hovering. I ran towards Klara and shook her.

"KLARA SNAP OUT OF IT!"

Klara didn't move. I ran back downstairs and saw that Andy, Lewis, and Jane were in the same position. I ran to Jane, shaking her. Jane didn't budge. Neither did Andy or Lewis.

"STOP! WHOEVER IS THERE! JUST STOP!!!"

Something suddenly overtook me. My vision was overtaken by a bright orange light. I felt my body hover up into the air, and I couldn't move at all. It was as if I wasn't in control of my own body at all. I felt my body ascend into the sky, and everything went black.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself in a white room. My hands were pinned to the wall, and a searing pain overtook me. I groaned, seeing that my hands had been penetrated with two large spikes, I saw Andy and Klara in the room too, their hands also pinned to the wall with large spikes.

"HELP! HELP!" I yelled, but it was futile. My voice echoed throughout the entire room. Just then, two large humanoids entered the room. I could only stare in shock as they walked towards Andy, observing him. Their eyes were a pitch black, and their hands were long and webbed. Their legs were bent slightly, but were even longer than their hands. After observing Andy for a bit, they walked towards Klara, then towards me. I tried to free myself, but it was futile. The searing pain came back.

"GET AWAY! GET AWAY!!!"

Just then, the humanoids spoke, and I could understand every word they said. It was English, fluent English.

"He's...awake"

"That wasn't supposed to happen"

"Look at him. He's not a perfect specimen"

"I agree. The others are much more better,"

"Should we let him go?"

"I suppose"

The humanoids walked towards my hands and I felt the pain come back. The humanoids walked back in front of me, holding the spikes. They dropped them, then caressed my face.

"Shhh little one. You will be returned to your family. Your friends however, we must keep them,"

"Please," I was crying now. "Let them go,"

The humanoids turned to each other, then back to me.

I'm afraid we need them for further study. Do not tell anyone about our little encounter, or else..

The pain overtook me again. I keeled forward in pain, clutching my head.

The pain is coming from a bug we have implanted in your brain. Any attempt at telling any other humans about the encounter will result in the pain you are feeling right now.

The pain slowly stopped, and I stood back up, still crying.

Now, we shall let you go little one

The orange light returned, and I found myself back in my bed in less than a second. I stood up quickly, and looked at my hands. There were no scars, nothing to indicate that they had been stabbed with spikes. I groaned and walked to my bedroom door, hearing crying downstairs. I walked downstairs and saw my parents and two men in trenchcoats. As soon as my mom saw me she let out a wail and ran to me, hugging me tightly.

"OH MY BABY!" My mom wailed.

"What's...going on," I said, holding in tears. I knew perfectly well what was happening.

"Kiddo," One of the trenchcoat men spoke up. "Your uh..."

He cleared his throat and continued.

"Your sister and friends went missing last night," The trenchcoat man said. "Do you recall anything during that time?"

I opened my mouth to speak but stopped. I remembered the threat. If I told a single soul about last night the pain would return. I gulped.

"No...I don't" I said. "I fell asleep at 9,"

The trenchcoat man nodded, and handed my dad a card.

"If anything comes up, call the number on the card," The other trenchcoat man said, standing up and leaving. My mom and dad hugged me for what seemed like eternity after that.

That was 27 years ago. I'm 38 now. I have a beautiful wife and two kids. I still can vividly picture the night my sister and friends were taken, but I haven't told a single soul about the incident since it happened. By now I've come to accept what happened that night. What's happened has happened, and besides, I can't change my past. But from time to time, the faces of the humanoids still haunts me.

This is an automated archive.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/sunshine_dreaming on 2023-07-02 15:58:29+00:00.

---

I thought moving to the country would be a good thing. Less stress, less problems. Less crime.

But I don’t feel safe out here. Not now.

Being isolated feels like a mistake. A huge, massive, mistake.

I thought I would love it. All the peace and quiet. And I did. Except now my husband isn’t.. Well he doesn’t seem like himself.

And I’m completely cut off from everyone.

We bought this farm sight unseen during covid. We were those people. Five acres of prime midwest farmland, flat, open, and hot, with topsoil twelve inches deep- perfect for a little homestead. There was a quaint farmhouse to boot, with a front porch perfect for rocking chairs.

My mom thought we were crazy. “I don’t know why you want to be so far from us,” she spat at me one day as we boxed things up at our old house.

“Darren knows what he’s doing. We’re going to be fine.”

“You don’t know anything about farming. You won’t last a week.”

But she was wrong.

We’d set out a huge garden, bought some chickens, and settled into our new community. And unlike many of the “sight unseen” home purchase horror stories you hear about, our farmhouse, while small, was darling in person.

Everything had been going great. Until last night.

I was reading in bed when Darren suddenly sat up.

“I think I left the back gate open.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

He got out of bed and slipped on some shoes. “I’m gonna go check.”

I kept reading and I guess I lost track of time. When I looked at the clock, almost 20 minutes had passed. He should have been back already.

I marked my page and got up. I peeked out the window but couldn’t see anything. I cursed Darren under my breath for not installing the motion sensor light over our garage barn. It was pitch black out there.

That’s one thing they don’t tell you about living in the country. The nights are dark. Pitch black, and the only light around is your own- and the stars.

Grumbling, I slipped on my rubber boots by the back door and turned on the porch light. He’d probably just gotten off track looking at all the stuff we needed to fix. There was plenty of that around.

I slipped outside. The cool summer air smelled of cut hay and buzzed with insects, and my boots crunched on the loose gravel.

I thought for sure he would be in the barn- but he wasn’t. The lights were off in there too.

That’s when I noticed a soft light coming from our front field- right behind the barn. I walked to the edge of the building for a better look.

When I turned the corner light blasted my face, so bright I had to shield my eyes with my hand. Confused, I tried to blink them open.

What I saw made me recoil. I stepped back into the shadows, my heart pounding. A bead of sweat ran down my forehead and I wiped it away with a finger.

I know what I saw. It was a spaceship, and it was illuminating Darren, who stood frozen in the pasture.

I crept to the corner, crouched and shaking. I peeked again.There it was. A fucking spaceship.

Darren was now floating skyward, illuminated by a beam of incredible light.

“Oh god,” I choked out. A sob escaped my lips.

I hate to admit it. I wasn’t brave. I didn’t try to help him. Instead, I turned on my heels, and ran back to the house as fast as I could. I flew into the house, and bolted the door behind me. I slid down to the floor and prayed they hadn’t seen me.

I didn’t know what to do. There was no one to call, and what would I even say?

I numbly sat there until I fell into a restless sleep.

But this morning I woke up to Darren frying eggs in the kitchen.

My first thought was how did he get in here? But then I remembered. The front door. It wasn’t locked- no one locks their door out here. Why would you?

I stared at him.

“Honey?” I asked tentatively. “Are you.. Feeling alright?”

He plated the eggs and brought them to the table. “Sure, why?”

“You never came to bed last night.”

He laughed. “Sure I did. You were out cold, still holding that book with the light on.”

I felt a surge of relief. “Oh.. really?” Then I felt doubtful. “How did I get down here?”

“I think you were sleepwalking again.”

“Oh.”

I stared down at my plate. Two fried eggs and a slice of bacon grinned back at me, like a demented smiley face.

Darren had fried the eggs. Not scrambled them, like I always did. He knew I hated fried eggs, especially the runny ones. Something was off.

I ate the eggs anyway, and didn’t call attention to his mistake. The rich, buttery yolks turned my stomach. I carefully watched Darren as he cleaned his plate.

Surely all that last night was just a dream. Right? Had to be. Maybe I’m having stress nightmares again.

I have this bad feeling something is wrong with him.

I just peeked out the window and right now he’s out in the barn. I don’t know what he’s doing.

If something is wrong- that means it wasn’t a dream.

Maybe that’s not my husband at all.

This is an automated archive.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/ImaCashierReddit on 2023-07-02 15:40:00+00:00.

---

As I sat in the dimly lit therapist's office, the shadows danced eerily on the walls, and a chill ran down my spine. I took a deep breath, the scent of old books mingling with the faint aroma of lavender. I knew I had to recount the terrifying tale that had plagued my nights, lest it consume me entirely. With trembling hands, I began to share the harrowing details.

"It was a moonless night when I found myself wandering alone amidst the ancient forest. The dense canopy overhead swallowed the feeble light, enveloping me in an oppressive darkness. Every step seemed to echo with an ominous silence, as if the very woods held their breath in anticipation. A shiver ran through me, a premonition of impending doom.

Suddenly, a distant howl pierced through the stillness, cutting through the air like a mournful cry of anguish. It sent chills down my spine, a primal instinct warning me of an unseen danger lurking in the shadows. Panic gripped my heart, urging me to flee, but morbid curiosity kept my feet rooted to the spot.

And then, emerging from the inky blackness, I caught a glimpse of a figure, a grotesque amalgamation of human and beast. It stood on four twisted limbs, its gnarled joints bent in unnatural angles. The moonlight revealed its gaunt form, its flesh a sickly pale, stretched tightly over protruding bones. Its face, a twisted visage of malevolence, bore a twisted grin that sent waves of terror crashing through my very soul.

Without warning, the creature lunged forward, its movements disturbingly fluid and inhuman. I stumbled backward, tripping over gnarled roots as I desperately sought to escape its clutches. Its guttural snarls echoed through the night, chilling me to the core.

I ran, my heart pounding like a thunderous drumbeat in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins. But no matter how fast I sprinted, the creature kept its pace effortlessly, its otherworldly agility defying reason. Its eyes, burning with an unholy light, locked onto mine, hypnotizing me with their malevolent gaze.

The forest itself seemed to conspire against me, trees contorting and shifting, forming grotesque shapes that threatened to ensnare me. Branches reached out like skeletal fingers, scratching at my flesh, drawing rivulets of crimson in their wake. Yet, I pressed on, my will to survive propelling me forward, despite the overwhelming dread that clung to my every step.

Time became distorted, the boundaries between reality and nightmare blurring into a terrifying haze. The creature's taunting growls grew louder, its presence an omnipresent force that instilled a primal terror within me. With every passing moment, I felt my sanity unraveling, frayed threads slipping through my trembling grasp.

But then, a flicker of hope ignited within me as I stumbled upon an old, dilapidated cabin hidden within the forest's depths. It stood as a bastion against the encroaching darkness, promising safety from the horrors that pursued me. With a surge of desperate strength, I lunged toward the door, praying for sanctuary within its decaying walls.

As I entered, the stagnant air weighed heavily on my lungs, mingling with the musty scent of abandonment. I hastily bolted the door, seeking solace in the illusion of security. The cabin creaked and groaned, its ancient timbers protesting my intrusion, as if warning me of the sinister truth that lay within.

But my respite was short-lived. In the dim candlelight, I turned, only to find those haunting eyes once again. The creature had followed me, its presence defying logic and reason. Its malevolent grin widened, revealing rows of jagged teeth that glistened with a sickening hunger.

I screamed, a guttural cry torn from the depths of my being, a desperate plea for salvation. But it fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the creature's unholy laughter that echoed through the cabin's desolate halls. It lunged toward me, its claws tearing through the barrier I had futilely hoped would protect me.

Darkness consumed my vision as pain enveloped me. The world around me dissolved into a chaotic whirlwind of terror and despair. And then, mercifully, I awoke, gasping for breath, drenched in cold sweat, my heart pounding like a war drum in my chest.

But the nightmares persist, lingering like a curse that refuses to be broken. The memory of that four-legged humanoid and its insatiable desire to consume my very soul haunts me still. And now, here I am, seeking solace within the confines of this therapist's office, hoping to find answers or perhaps just a sliver of understanding in the face of unspeakable horror."

As I finished recounting my tale to the therapist, a heavy silence settled upon the room. The air hung thick with the weight of my torment, suffocating us both. The therapist's expression mirrored my own dread, as if they, too, had felt the presence of that abominable creature, lurking in the recesses of our minds. Ready to attack at any given time. Just then, the room seemed to melt. I awoke...

This is an automated archive.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/PotentialLine4341 on 2023-07-02 15:34:14+00:00.

---

Rolling over, I wrapped my arms around her, she lay still, sleeping. The room was silent, the gentle humming of the boiler downstairs was all to be heard. Usually she's awake before me, maybe she's coming down with the flu. I squeezed her, leaning my head into her luscious brown hair. I take a deep breath as her beautiful scent drifted up my nose enhancing my senses.

My heart fluttered wildly, like the first time I met her, I remembered it like it was yesterday. Her deep brown eyes spotted me from Across the room. In an instant, I fell in love.

My heart fluttered wildly, like the first time I met her, I remembered it like it was yesterday. Her deep brown eyes spotted me from Across the room. In an instant, I fell in love.

She was married, she told me she was. But I knew one day, I'd end up with her. My pull to her was too strong, I could not live without her. I knew deep inside she couldn't live without me. I snapped myself back to reality, her smell getting stronger, the house still silent. It was eerie, really, how quiet the house was, even though she has two children and her husband living here.

"Isabella, I'm going to check on the family, my love, then I will come sort you out," I whispered, stroking her hair.

Her husband and I, we had a deal. He could live with us, he can pretend everything is OK to his children. On one condition, he cannot touch her, he cannot even look at her. I liked the children they called me Uncle Charlie. I hopped down the stairs, not able to contain my grin. What a perfect life I had. I had to hop, when the husband first found out what was going on, he hit my leg with a hammer, It was just a shattered kneecap, it would fix itself soon enough. But that was when our deal came along. I turned into the kitchen, ready to greet the family. "Good morning all." I would sing to them, as I sang every morning. I looked, the children sat nicely up the table, their food untouched. Little Lucy had dark brown hair and light blue eyes, but I couldn't see her eyes right now, she must be asleep too. Her older brother Kyle is a different story, he's lolling his head back, he's not in the right state of mind, see. His blue eyes looked milky. Maybe he needed to see his doctor, maybe he's refused to take his seizure medication. I'd get my doctor's kit later, maybe operate. Something needs to be done for this poor boy. The dad, he still had lively moments where he thrashes in his chair and cried, but most of the time he is silent, I had to tie him to the chair to keep him from running away, the perks of being a police officer. A good set of handcuffs and was trained to use a gun. I haven't needed to use my gun yet, the family has been quite welcoming. The dad, his name is Jeff, his eyes are wide, and his hands started to shake, I knew then a tantrum was going to erupt.

"My children, they're rotting, in front of my eyes." He cried.

He had been trying to tell me for two weeks that his children are dead, well he was just wrong, I could hear them. He'd have to go, he's scaring the kids, he'll worry his wife. And with a swift thrust of the kitchen knife, I punctured his throat, blood squirting freely from him as I pull the blade out with a twist, excitement pulsated through my body.

You are finally free of the burden of your father, please call me daddy now," I whisper to the kids. My new kids.

I cleared his body, cutting it up into small squares. Took me a few hours but by the end, I had enough to freeze for the next week, and enough to make a stew. I will slow cook it, make it tender for my poorly love. Isabella would enjoy a nice stew. I rushed upstairs, my arms ready to embrace my darling. I glanced into the bedroom and noticed she was still sleeping. Maybe a nice hand wash would do her good. I fill a bowl of soapy water and enter our room. The smell getting stronger, she definitely needs a wash. Lifting her shirt over her head I started massaging her body gently with a soapy sponge, she must have liked it, she flopped her head back in which I was sure was happiness. I scrubbed gently back and forward over her body. Then when I squeezed the soapy sponge into the water, I noticed a red hint.

Blood.

My heart raced, of course, my Isabella is bleeding. Her skin peeled off her beautiful body, enough now that there was no skin left to cover her right rib. Maybe I had gotten too excited and pressed too hard. I'll patch her up later, there's a possibility that she has just shed her skin, it is possible of course. I filled my bowl with stew, it taste tough, much like pork. I should have skinned him first.

I took the children out that night and left them at the door of their grandma's. It'll be good for them. Little Lucy's body hung loosely in the car as if she was asleep. She's such a joker, Kyle was as stiff as a board though. That evening I got home, and ran straight upstairs to make love with my darling. That's when you knocked and handcuffed me for no real reason except for protecting my new family.

Officer jones handcuffed me straight away, He knew there was something wrong. The smell startled his nose, causing his skin to crawl. I was shocked, he said I didn't understand what I had done. He received a call earlier, from an old woman. She screamed she did, her heart was shattered. She got a knock on the door at 6:17 pm that evening, she opened it to find her grandchildren. A 5-year-old girl and a 9-year-old boy. Dead. When he arrived the first thing he noticed was the strong smell, then the decaying bodies of the little children who lay at his feet. He described it as skin fell off their cheeks, the fingers completely missing. The maggots which slid out from the ears of the little girl were a haunting picture. Still, he cannot get their glazed scared eyes out of his mind. Of course, straight away he went to the mother's home, and the grandma was happy to give him the address. He blue-lighted his way over here, to knock on the door of what seemed to be a happy family home.

The man who answered the door was what shocked him the most me Charlie. He(jones) worked alongside me but I had called off sick about 3 weeks earlier. I am tall, 6'5 feet tall muscly physique blocked his entry. I greeted him like an old friend, knowing that as soon as I had his hand in mine the cuffs will go on. And so he did it, handcuffed and forced me to the floor I knew I could take him I got up and tried to take him down with my other hand which was very hard but I did it. As The smell of the house getting stronger, a mixture of rotting eggs, rotting cabbage, and human feces. Another police car pulled up, gripping hold of Jones and I thought was a gentle giant. I ran around the house, gun in hand that I took from Jones when I took him down before another car pulled up. Three more of them, I pointed my gun at them 'bad move' I know and before I could load the gun, one of them shot my thigh. I fell to the ground and Jones ran up me and punched my face and everything went dark...

Jones told me later that the kitchen was a state, two chairs had urine and feces all over them, chains tied to the arms. Another chair lay on its back, bloodstained and broken. One followed a stronger more pungent smell up the stairs, looking for a survivor. On the bed, completely exposed lay a lady, her rib caged exposed, flesh hung from her stomach, her one breast completely deflated with blood leaking from its side. The bed was spoiled with red, brown, and yellow. Her long brown hair hung off her skull, exposing the bones. Her eyes closed as if sleeping. But the lips were open, infested with maggots. His heart skipped a beat, as well as dropped into his stomach as he held in the vomit. With shaky hands he turned to leave, his mind scarred with what was left.

I wasn't charged with murder. Instead, I was sent to the loony bin, I won't get out anytime soon. What happened to me is a mystery to him, why did I snap? what made me kill? I knew him well, he was a good man or did I thought he was? I was always on my good behaviour, I mean I was pretty good looking and tall which made me easy to pick girls but was always nice to everyone. But when I am let out, his fear is I will attack again. I still believe the family is alive, I talk about them a lot. It's been 15 years now, but I'll tell you one thing, that smell has not left my mind. I loved it.

That old women, my children's grandmother took them from me, called the police and I was sent to an loony bin? I gave her the children to take care of them rather she betrayed me? she is next I will go for her when I get out.

Doctors here told me to write a diary as I was very angry even after 15 years. They tried everything they could over the years to fix me even put me into the locked unit for care. All items that could be used for self-harm or to harm others are removed from the possession of the patient and they are placed in a safe hospital wing that is also free from those types of items. Typically, a unit may have 10–15 other patients which will share the space. But then I figured I would just write on reddit rather than write a dairy.

I might update if I ever get my hands on that grandmother, which will be very soon I believe.

This is an automated archive.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Stained_Jester76 on 2023-07-02 15:32:50+00:00.

---

My house is old, it was built in the 1960’s or 1970’s but there was a block of flats that previously settled here and were torn down due to poor maintenance. Me and my family moved here when I was around 6 months old so this house is all I’ve ever known.

But as you may know with old houses, it has it’s fair share of ghosts. I don’t remember how old I was when I found it, but theres this old wooden doll bearing the name Sophie. I can’t remember if I wrote it or someone else. But she’s old, her limbs held together with flimsy string thats the same colour as straw, an old dress and a baby held onto her with a necklace, her hair made out of this same material holding her limbs together.

She has since lost one leg. I used to love and play with her a lot, but just like my parents I grew uneasy of her, she currently sits in my wardrobe, untouched unless I need something.

But there’s a reason I’ve placed a statue of an angel facing the wardrobe. Because there was a reason I couldn’t sleep through the night.

You see, when night fell, I would sit in my bed on my phone unbothered, sometimes. Before I placed the statue, whenever I turned to face away from my wardrobe, I always felt a small person climb onto my bed and start moving from my feet to my back, slowly but surely this thing would slowly reach up to the middle of my back, and just stand there, shifting weight from one foot to the other.

Whenever I looked however, there would be nothing there and the weight would disappear. It was like this for ages. Until it started getting worse.

The night it started getting worse I was going to sleep facing the wardrobe in an attempt for a peaceful nights sleep. Just like the other nights I had fell asleep facing my wardrobe I had no issues. Until I felt it climbing. And reaching further. Until this time it stopped at my chest. I felt this really heavy weight yet stayed still, hoping it would go away. Only it didn’t.

Not 10 seconds after it started it felt like an overweight child just threw themselves onto me. I tried to get up and run, but all I could do was violently shake my shins and feet. It felt like forever I was trapped like this when in reality it must’ve only been a few seconds. Eventually the feeling went away. I immediately sat up. Gasping for air, not realising I couldn’t breathe in my fight to get out of that trance.

That happened a few more times during the night along with a horrible feeling of being watched. I eventually had enough and put up the statue when whatever it was started shaking my bed and kicking my mattress from underneath it.

Nobody could fit down there though. Its filled with boxes of my things.

After I put up that statue I have only gone to sleep with the noise of a video from my phone and the feeling of being watched. A few times I have awoken to the statue knocked over and a bad feeling. Yet I simply faced it towards my wardrobe again and that feeling was replaced with peace.

Only now the statue isn’t working as well. I plan to charge it during the full moon but it’s the only angel statue I have. And I fear whats going to happen that night.

I don’t know how this doll and the entity are connected. I just know when I found this doll again and put it in my wardrobe, did the incidents start.

This is an automated archive.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/FloorOk4549 on 2023-07-02 14:51:43+00:00.

---

Abandonment. Moving out was always followed by that feeling of abandonment. I have not had much success in the last year. Several times I had to move to a worse place. Until there was nothing worse available. In this context, it may sound almost comical. But I love large houses. One living room is not enough. And one bedroom? Suffering to see that.

Minimalist modern living has become my enemy. Those New York apartments are the pinnacle. That is why I am saving up for a proper house my whole life. Costs of living have been kept to an absolute minimum. I eat the cheapest food. But sometimes I daydream and imagine... Massive marble columns in the middle of the two-story entrance hall hold the heavy roof of the Residence, the palace, my future happiness. Walls covered in frescoes with ancient motifs. Exotic wood beneath hides underfloor heating. The window frames have been worked on by the best carpenters. Oh, how beautiful this air is! The smell of a vast house surrounds me.

Hey, I am not the only one with a hobby like this. I know a group of people who share a passion for large houses. It is called NER. The acronym stands for Not Enough Rooms. A phrase that members of the group say to each other when they enter an unsuitable house. Was not long before I started attending their meetings. They met every Sunday and marveled at the monumental new projects the billionaires' crazy building plans were trying to bring to life. That counts as art, right? We marveled about art. The golden grail of our ambitions was The Manor in Los Angeles. Neither of us will save $150 million during this one lifetime. But it was nice to know that there was a 123-room house on this planet.

Richard and I were inseparable. He was an unbeatable optimist. Even when his life was falling apart, he acted like he had everything under control. When his wife eventually left him, we started seeing each other outside the group. He was very sympathetic to my saving spirit. He saved money like that for his entire life. Since he was much older than I was, his Residence was already under construction.

It was a magnificent monument. The combination of painted steel and concrete left a powerful impression. The roof was made of copper and it was the absolute peak of art. As you walked in, the redwood parquet flooring smiled at you from below. And all those wonderful rooms! There must have been forty of them. "Not enough rooms" I joked as I took my first look at the majestic interior.

"Would you like some wine? I have a Chateau d'Yquem to celebrate." Richard offered. He had previously mentioned the wine to me, having bought it in 1995, only to open it after the house of his dreams was completed.

"Sure! And we'll go through all the rooms?" I could not help but ask. The excitement was literally sizzling out of me.

"If we don't pass out halfway through, yes." He smiled and headed off to get the wine. Of course he had a wine cellar. The Residence had just about everything, from a large attic to several smaller rooms in the basement, including a safe, a security shelter, and a movie theater.

He left and was gone for a considerable amount of time. I had no idea how far away the wine cellar was. Maybe it was not under the house, but somewhere in the bowels of that enormous garden outside. I started exploring the house without my guide.

The nearest door hid a storage room. Empty shelves on the walls and storage bins underneath looked empty. It was a barren but very large room, waiting to become useful. But despite the visible emptiness, it felt like it was stuffed. Four different doors on the right side connected the storage room to the rest of the house. Again, I chose the one closest to me, walked up to it, and opened it. A mixture of sheer wonder and confusion followed. This is the home theater? It was supposed to be in the basement.

Before me stretched the most magnificent cinema one can have in their home. As the floor deepened, rows of red seats descended in groups of eight. A giant cream-coloured screen at the far back excelled at adding contrast to the setting. It was not, however, square in shape. Instead, it was one large hanging oval. This made me take a closer look at all the furnishings of the room. The seats were backwards. They had back rests interchanged with the seating area, making them look like recliners. I would have been comforted if this was actually some kind of weird tanning room and the oval mimicked the real sun. Anything is possible in large houses. But it was not. And I was even more alarmed when four identical-looking doors appeared again on the right side of the theater. They made no attempt to match the angled floor. The ones at the back just hung a metre off the ground. Again, I chose the closest one.

Nothing to see. Just a staircase going down. I closed the door and walked to the second door in the sequence. Again, nothing to see. Just a staircase going up to the second floor? I began to have strong doubts about the abilities of the architect who had designed this particular Residence. The layout was neither functional nor logical. But if I walked through the first door, I might find the wine cellar and reunite with Richard. Once again, I opened it, and at that moment, my head spun. Everything I had seen before was missing. Before me stretched a completely bare room with no sign of the previous staircase.

I race to the other door, intent on running upstairs and contacting the lost guide. My sense of direction was beginning to fail in a big way. I have neither the desire nor the courage to continue the expedition alone. Reassured that I am not lost here, I open the second door. This time there is nothing here at all. Not a room, nothing at all. The door leads directly into an empty wall.

Turning around and going back is the smartest idea. Well, for that to happen, the entrance leading from the warehouse to the cinema would have to be there! This house is playing games with me. Nothing to do but try the last two doors at the end. At least there is something behind the third. There is a lot of light coming from behind it. The gloom in the cinema is enhanced by the uneven lighting conditions in the neighbouring room. Indeed, as I open the door, there is a room full of equipment and machines beyond. I have no way of identifying exactly what these are. The glass walls somehow multiply the sunlight and blind me. The machines inside, despite being black in color, glow so malevolently, reflecting all the brightness into my eyes. No, not this door.

Back in the dim cinema, I am slowly losing hope. Why did they build a vault in here? This whole building, this living set of vicious walls, is one great impenetrable optical illusion. Such an irregularly branching and confusing cluster of compartments. The nightmare of every burglar. But I am just a visitor! Residence, why do you scold me for my curiosity? I came to admire you.

As though it heard my unspoken message. The fourth door opens by itself. I need to gather some courage before I head to the fourth room. Please pray for my safety.

This is an automated archive.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Aweezah on 2023-07-02 10:05:44+00:00.

---

I’ve been wanting to share this experience for a while now so might as well take this opportunity.

I’ve been babysitting for this family for 2 years now, the kids are two girls, “A” is 10 and “Y” is 7. This happened around September last year, the family live in the countryside with horses and a farm about a 5 minute walk away. There are other houses near by too. On this particular night, it was a little rainy and “Y” was fast asleep while I was struggling getting “A” into her bed. It was around 10 pm and her mum was due back soon so I was aware she’d be annoyed if she was still awake. “A” asked for a bedtime story which I was happy to do, she climbed into bed, and the family dog decided to join her and jumped up into the bed too.

Around 20 minutes later, “A” was getting pretty close to falling asleep when I heard the sound of the front door opening, followed by the inner boot room door opening too, which had a distinctive squeaking sound. I sighed knowing now that she was back and “A” wasn’t asleep so she’d be annoyed with “A”. Although when I checked my phone I noticed she was 25 minutes early.. which is strange of her.

The dog instantly jumped off the bed and ran downstairs barking which in turn caused “A” to sit up and ask “is that mummy?” I assured her it was okay and to lay back down as I knew she was pretty much about to fall to sleep. Which she did. I got up and started walking out her room and across the landing to the stairs (only the top of the stairs are visible from the area I was standing) before I could make it to the top of the stairs I heard the sound of the mums voice calling up “Hello?” from the bottom of the stairs. She said it in a whisper so I replied whispering “Hi!” Although, when I got to the top of the stairs I peered down and there was no one there… just a weird silence/emptiness.

I slowly walked down and looked around all the rooms but with no sign of the mum or anyone of that matter, the door was still locked and their dog was now laying down by it. Trying not to freak out I unlocked the door expecting to see her car or a neighbour, or something! But there was no one there… I even checked in on “Y” but she was still asleep, I couldn’t find a cause of all this, no intruders, no TVs on, and no one was downstairs when it happened.

Their mum arrived back 20 minutes after this and I told her about what happened, she was shocked and a little scared but assured me she hadn’t come back early and left again like I convinced myself what had happened. “A” thankfully didn’t remember any of this the next morning, as I expected she was half asleep when she asked “is that mummy?”

I really just don’t know what to think about this situation, strange things have happened before here... random noises, footsteps, etc, but NOTHING as real and scary as this. Anyone have any thoughts? Thanks.

This is an automated archive.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Redditboyyythereal1 on 2023-07-02 07:12:28+00:00.

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My mom and dad would always leave me home alone on Fridays sometimes even Saturday. My parents go to out because of my mom and dad couples therapy session but this therapist was for later at night maybe 7:30ish to 9:30.

I stay in my room and turn off all the lights shut the door locked Aswell for the windows I am paranoid and always lay under my blankets in full darkness not a light on in the house but one day while I was grabbing some water I saw what looks like a 70 year old man.

outside looking for a way in to my house I was terrified he had a grin so large and it also look like he was saying something crawled to my bed and quickly messaged my mom to come back I was having a nervous breakdown but stayed quiet I then crawled to an opening in my upstairs where it looks towards

the front yard he saw me I didn't even open the blind just peeked through the blinds he stared for a while I was so scared to move and when he started to knock looked back and disappeared

my mom and dad arrived and he disappeared. The next week after that he showed up around 8:40 at that point I had bats in my room and also camped out in the place he first saw me

he then saw me again with an even wider grin on his face I was frozen I just accepted my fate but I didn't want to die for a while he started knocking in a way that he could knock the door down I was terrified and afraid of what to happen

I then heard a thud Ans a second one the door had fallen off its hinges I got scared and just ran to my room hid under my bed with the bat saw him sort of but he was different

he was now a dark figure with skin peeling off muttering words I could not hear he was much taller about 7 to 8 ft I wasn't 100 percent sure but he was

closing in my room I was scared out of my mind and decided to die fighting that is till I stood up and saw him towering he was scrawny still he muttered words that I couldn't understand he went inside the bathroom next to my room and I sprinted out

I prepared an escape route in my head which was run to the end of the street and climb a nearby persons fence but to my terror he was right behind me he was catching till I saw my parents car almost getting run over they saw what was chasing me and quickly unlocked the car door

we crashed into him hitting his leg he then from the floor started running on all fours my dad had a blank expression mom terrified I was in shock my dad's told my mom how did it follow us here I asked you know what that is my dad said yes when you

were first born it showed up at night with a large grin he was in the form of an old man I told my dad i saw last week but thought he wouldn't returned we never looked back and left the country it's been ten years and we never talk about it anymore I still get nightmares.

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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Beneficial-Bat4296 on 2023-07-02 06:52:33+00:00.

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Recently, something extraordinary happened to me - I experienced multiple episodes of sleep paralysis, commonly known as ghostly encounters.

During the first occurrence, I felt my body being pinned down by an unseen force. I quickly sensed a loss of control over my body. I attempted to push it away with my hands, but in reality, my physical body remained still while I tried to use my mental strength to push it away. Eventually, I managed to exert enough force and successfully pushed it away. In that moment, I believed I had overcome it, and a sense of triumph engulfed me. I felt invincible, thinking I could easily conquer any future episodes of sleep paralysis. (It was already 8 or 9 in the morning, and I didn't want to get out of bed as I had only fallen asleep around 3 am. Despite feeling great and triumphant about easily defeating the sleep paralysis entity.)

The second occurrence triggered my arrogance, and I began to insult and provoke the entity in my thoughts. I mentally challenged it, saying things like, "Come on, bring it on! Come and get me, you coward!" Shortly after, I felt that same unseen force pressing down on me again, and my body started to feel heavy and uncontrollable. I struggled to break free from its grip, finding it increasingly difficult. I began reciting Buddhist mantras, and suddenly, I regained control over my body. This only fueled my arrogance further. I started taunting the entity.

In the subsequent episodes, I entered a semi-lucid dream state. I found myself in a dark environment, surrounded by unknown structures. I searched for the entity, thinking it would be more satisfying to have a weapon to fight back. To my surprise, a samurai sword appeared in my hand. I could see myself performing various sword movements with both hands gripping the hilt, executing vertical and horizontal slashes. It was unmistakably a samurai sword.

Whenever I felt the force pressing down on me, I could see that I had found the entity. I viciously swung the sword while reciting Buddhist scriptures and mantras. It brought me great pleasure to witness the entity in agonizing pain as I attacked it. I believed that my actions were driving it away. I continued to wield the sword and search for the entity, using the sensation of being pinned down as an indication of its presence. I would then unleash my sword and recite the scriptures, driving it away and pursuing it relentlessly. I became addicted to this process as it brought me immense satisfaction.

However, I started to notice that my strength was gradually diminishing. Each time I was pinned down, it became more challenging to regain control over my body. In the final encounter, I experienced a nocturnal emission, commonly known as a wet dream.

The entity left, and I could sense its satisfaction.

I felt puzzled as to why my later attempts to rely on the power of Buddhism failed to repel the entity. It then occurred to me that in the beginning, I chanted the mantras out of fear for self-preservation. However, in subsequent encounters, my mindset shifted to one of anger and resentment, fueled by negative thoughts. In those moments, I was connecting with the entity on its level rather than with the enlightened teachings of Buddhism. Furthermore, with each episode, my strength waned a little more.

Lessons learned: Cultivate a deeper and more sincere practice of Buddhist mantras and compassion. Minimize exposure to social media to avoid deepening negative thoughts.

Tactical approach for future encounters: I will attempt to bind the entity using a rope.

http://weiliang.art/html\_en/view-post.php?post\_id=56

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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Constant_Regular3207 on 2023-07-02 06:23:21+00:00.

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I was just a young child when it first happened. I remember it vividly, as though it was etched into my mind forever. It was a dark and stormy night, the kind that makes your skin crawl with anticipation. I lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to find solace in sleep. That's when I heard it—a faint, unsettling noise, like a glitch in reality.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I slowly crept to my bedroom door. I hesitated for a moment, my hand trembling as I reached for the doorknob. With a creak, the door swung open, revealing a horrifying sight that I could never forget.

There, standing before me, was my family. But they were different. Their bodies glitched and flickered, as if they were trapped in a digital nightmare. Mom, Dad, and my baby sister all stood there, their eyes locked on me, their faces contorted into unsettling smiles that sent shivers down my spine.

I blinked, hoping that it was just a trick of my tired mind, but they remained unchanged. I couldn't tear my eyes away from their glitching forms, their movements jerky and unnatural. It was as if they were trapped in some glitched-out version of reality, a parallel world that had somehow merged with our own.

Fear consumed me, but curiosity drove me forward. I had to see if this horrifying vision was real. I stumbled out of my room and made my way to the bathroom, hoping to find some answers in the reflection of the mirror.

As I stood before the mirror, my heart pounded in my chest. I gazed at my own reflection, but it was not me staring back. Instead, a distorted version of myself grinned maniacally, black glitchy liquid oozing out of its mouth. I let out a blood-curdling scream, and the mirror shattered into a thousand pieces, glass flying in all directions.

From that day forward, I referred to this glitchy version of myself and my family as the "Family Void." They haunted my dreams, their glitchy forms always lurking in the back of my mind. I couldn't escape them.

A few years passed, and we decided to move out of that cursed house. We packed our belongings into the car and began our journey to a new life. As we drove away, I couldn't resist looking back one last time.

There they were, standing in the yard, watching us leave. Their glitchy forms smiled at me, black liquid dripping from their eyes and mouths. I shuddered, feeling an overwhelming sense of dread.

Who were they? Why did they look like me and my family? These questions tormented my thoughts, but the answers remained elusive. It was as if the glitch in reality had swallowed them whole, leaving behind only distorted replicas.

To this day, I wonder if they still exist, if they continue to haunt the lives of unsuspecting souls. And if they do, I pray that no one else will have to experience the terror of the Family Void, a glitch in reality that consumes everything in its path. Did anyone have stories like mine? Gone through the same thing? That saw… Them?

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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/mrbeefthighs on 2023-07-02 06:16:46+00:00.

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Everyone has a scary night every once in a while. After staying up too late reading scary stories, a horror movie or even just spending the night in an unfamiliar place.

You’ll lay awake in bed staring into the darkness around you, zeroing in on every creak that sounds like a footstep, on every shadow that looks like man standing in the corner of the room. Eventually you’ll muster the courage to close your eyes and turn your back on that shadow, but there was a moment where you thought it might have moved. Not much, just a small flinch, but you could have sworn.

I had one of those nights a few weeks ago.

I had just moved into a new house and had not yet gotten used to all the creaks and bumps the old house made in the night in addition to the new patters of shadows that splashed across my bedroom when the lights went out.

Laying in bed, trying to sleep, I heard a bump and turned over in bed to look in its direction.

There in the corner of the room was an unfamiliar shadow. It looks almost as if there was someone crouching behind the armchair that rest in the corner of my room. I could almost make out through the darkness a section of shadow that was a little bit lighter than rest of the darkness around it. Like we usually do in these situations – my imagination went wild. Was it a hand grasping the top of the chair in anticipation of leaping out towards me? Was it a forehead and an eyeball peeking out from behind the chair to see if I had noticed. I held my breath for few moments as my mind raced through the thousand different things that could be hiding behind my reading chair.

A few moments later the horror passed and I rolled back over in bed and tried to get some more sleep. It was probably just a shirt I had thrown on to the chair while unpacking some of the boxes I had left over from the move.

I closed my eyes.

Another bump.

My head flew off the pillow my arm shot for the light switch. I flipped the light on and whipped my head around towards the chair, halfway bracing myself for whatever was surely barreling its way towards me.

There was nothing there. Just a regular ratty armchair. I didn’t have a shirt draped over the back of it like I had previously hypothesized. I didn’t like that.

Nonetheless, there wasn’t anything in here with me. I could see the whole room from where I sat in bed. A dresser, a small bookshelf, an armchair and a night stand. The closet was already open and I could see it was empty. My bed was just a mattress on the floor since I hadn’t gotten a bedframe yet. There was no place to hide. My imagination was getting the best of me.

To make myself feel a little bit better I got up and locked my door, then I went into my closet and grabbed a toy wooden sword I had gotten at the renaissance fair and leaned it against the door just in case someone got passed the lock somehow the sword would fall on the hardwood floors and wake me up. Only then did I crawl back in bed and close my eyes.

Yeah, I was being super paranoid. Just one of those nights.

I woke up sometime later to a sharp poke on my back.

Then a whispering voice, “Are you Phil Lockerbie?”

Half asleep I murmured, “What the fuck?”, pretty certain I was still in a dream.

Another poke jabbed at my lower back followed by another question, this time slightly louder, “Is your name Phil Lockerbie?”

I rolled over in bed and reached for the light switch.

“Don’t turn on the lights!” shouted a voice from the darkness.

**Click**

Standing at my bedside was a 7-foot-tall figure wrapped in a black robe, the skinless face under the black hood was bright red and dripped with blood that seemed to evaporate before it hit the ground. The hands that poked out of the sleeves of the robe were also skinless and dripped the same cherry red blood that vanished before it made contact with the ground. It was holding my toy sword.

I was too afraid to move. Too afraid to speak or make any sort of sound. I was completely paralyzed with fear.

Then the figure opened its mouth, “Usually people scream, so this is a nice surprise. Thanks for that. Is your name Phil Lockerbie?”

I pissed myself.

“Oh man,” the bleeding man pointed at the growing stain on my bedsheets with the wooden sword, “That is so embarrassing!”

Finally, I got my vocal cords to start working again, “Who are you?”

The bleeding man swung the sword around a few times in mock combat, “I’ve asked you the same question 3 times now and you still haven’t answered, but yeah, sure I’ll answer first. Some people call me Javaraya, some call me San La Muerte, some call me King Yama or Ajal. I think most people in this part of the world call me the Grim Reaper, but you can call me Scott. Are you Phil Lockerbie?”

“What the fuck?” was the only thing I could think to say, then, “Are you here to kill me?”

Scott stopped swinging the sword and looked directly at me, his eyes were two burning coals in the black shadow beneath his hood, “Is your name Phil Lockerbie?”

I shook my head, “No.”

“Shit!”, Scott stamped his foot angrily then turned back to me, “You never saw me.”

Then he disappeared through my floor as if a trapdoor had opened up beneath him. The wooden sword clattered to the floor where he once stood.

I sat in my piss-soaked bed for another 10 minutes wondering if I was still dreaming or if I had suffered a complete mental break. Right as I was about to get up to change my pants and bedsheets my bedroom door swung open and Scott walked right back into my bedroom, stooping to get under the doorframe.

“Do you know where Phil Lockerbie lives?” He asked me, visibly annoyed, “This is the address we have on file I just double checked.”

“Who is we?” I asked getting a little bit more comfortable around the personification of death itself.

Scott immediately walked over and picked up the wooden sword off the ground, “We as in Hell,” He started swinging the sword around again like a child pretending to be a Power Ranger, “I just want to point out how disgusting it is, you’re still sitting in your puddle. Do you know where Phil Lockerbie lives?”

I got out of bed and pulled a fresh pair of underwear out of my dresser and walked to the bathroom to change.

“I’m just going to splash some cold water on my face and when I go back in there he’ll be gone” I thought to myself.

Two minutes later with my new undies on walked back into my room to find Scott sitting in my armchair flipping through one of my Stephen King novels. “It really is insane how much this guy gets right,” I heard Scott mutter to himself, “I wonder if he knows anybody?”

I cleared my throat to announce my presence.

Scott looked up from the book and asked again, “Do you know where Phil Lockerbie lives?”

I did know. He lived across the street from me. He was the first neighbor I met when I moved in two days ago. If I told him, would Phil die? If I didn’t tell him, would he take my soul as a replacement? What if he knew I was lying?

“He lives across the street from me in the house with the green roof. 448”

“448!” Scott said, exasperated, “Ǣthelred’s 8s always look like 3s. That’s my bad.”

“So, what happens now,” I asked feeling all the guilt in the world bubbling up inside me. I wanted to throw up.

“You change your sheets and I pop over across the street and drag Phil’s soul to hell,” He stood up from the armchair and picked the sword back up, “Can I keep this?”

“Bro, no. I like that sword.”

Scott pointed the sword in my direction, “I am not man, women or even human, and in retaliation for you misgendering me so flippantly, I’m taking it. See you in 43 years.”

Again, he fell directly through my bedroom floor, this time taking my sword with him.

I changed my sheets, but I didn’t go to back to sleep.

I sat on the front porch of my house for 5 hours and watched Phil’s house across the street. I heard his wife’s screams at 7:43. The ambulance arrived at 08:01. Heart attack.

I guess I have 43 years left and right now I don’t know what to do with them. I think I need to try to get into contact with Stephen King.

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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/kriegstadt on 2023-07-02 03:37:56+00:00.

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I guess that not all of you know what an Ashen Mask is, and, to be honest, I don't really know either. I have heard about Ashen Masks for several years in various parts of the internet, mostly in the context of expanding ones consciousness and making contact with other plains of reality. However, no two sources I have consulted seem to agree on what exactly an "Ashen Mask" is supposed to be, apart from the fact that it is, well...a mask. Some people claim that these masks were manufactured by aliens in order to allow humankind to get to the next level of evolution. Others think that they are the last remnants of a hyper-advanced civilization of the dark ages, maybe of Atlantis or the kingdoms of lost Lemuria. But whatever they may be, one thing was clear: Great things would happen to the people who put on an Ashen Mask. Because of this, Ashen Masks were something of a holy grail in the community of new-agey internet weirdos where I used to hang out. However, gullible as I was at that time, I never bought into this particular story. After all, you do not get anything into your system by putting on a mask, and therefore it seemed highly unlikely that anything would happen by doing so. And indeed, none of my friends who had ever personally put on a supposed "Ashen Mask" reported any unusual happenings. Therefore I concluded that the story of the "Ashen Masks" was either cooked up by an enterprising charlatan, or just an urban legend.

One day I was browsing the dark web, trying to find a reliable source of opium, when I came across a site selling "Ashen Masks". As I mentioned, I did not believe in the powers of the masks, but they looked creepy and were not very expensive, so I ordered one on a whim. I thought that maybe I could use it to prank my friends or something.

The thing arrived surprisingly quickly for a dark web purchase. It was packaged in a heavy box of black wood and, in spite of myself, I was somewhat creeped out when I saw it for the first time. The thing looked like a metal human face, similar to the famous Roman mask of the Teutoburg forest, except that this one had a red button on his forehead. However, when I picked it up, it felt as if it was covered in a layer of ashes of very fine sand. Under the mask, there was a was a note which read: TO SEE REALITY AS IT IS, PUT ON MASK AND PRESS BUTTON.

I smirked, put on the mask, and, with a slight shiver of anticipation, pressed the button. I don't really know what I expected to happen. Certainly not awesome revelations about the nature of the universe, thats for sure. I thought maybe colored glass would slide down in front of the masks eye-holes, or that the button would make some kind of silly sound.

Instead, nothing happened. I mean absolutely nothing. What I saw after pressing the button was exactly what I had seen before: My desk with the open box and my computer on it, my chair, my bookshelf and a part of my bed in the corner of my vision. I turned my head and looked out of the window, seeing exactly what I was used to seeing: my front lawn, the street, and the neighbors house.

"Well" I said, feeling somewhat silly "I guess I do see reality as it is. I did already see it before I had this mask, but never mind." I put the mask back into the box, and tried to think of a good place to store it, when suddenly my knees felt weak and I had to sit down.

I realize that what the next part of my experience has some characteristics of a bad trip, but I swear that I was totally sober on that day. I have done a fair amount of drugs in my time, including some that can have long-lasting effects, but I have never had to deal with something like this before or since. Nor do I think that my pressing the button released some kind of hallucinogenic into the mask, for I have neither smelled or tasted anything, nor felt an injection into my forehead. In any case, if you want to brush my report off as a druggies fantasy, you probably will do so, no matter what I say.

So anyways, here is what happened:

I was sitting down, trying to understand where this sudden weakness was coming from, when I realized that the proportions of my surroundings were subtly off. I felt that the things in my room had suddenly grown by several inches, despite the fact that my feet still touched the floor. Seeking something to fix my eyes to, I looked up to the bookshelf above my desk...and almost fell off my chair. The bookshelf seemed not only to have changed its size, but also its position on the wall and, strangest thing of all, its contents. For example, I knew that the Greek Necronomicon was up there, but my edition was a small, paperback print with a little octopus on the spine. Now, however, it seemed to have transformed into a large, musty-looking tome with leather binding. Besides this, there were a large number of similar volumes, some of them with titles in alphabets that I had never seem. "De Vermis Mysteriis" I read aloud "Unaussprechliche Kulte. The Revelations of Gla-Khey. Thomus Ulthar. The Unauthorized Biography of Chris Hans...".

At this point I realized that things had gotten seriously out of hand. I turned to the window in the hope of seeing my front lawn, the street, and the neighbors house. I saw the front lawn, the street, and a large, burly demon with a bulls head. The demon roared, raised a coarse battleaxe and charged towards my house. I tried to stand up and run, but someone seemed to have removed the floor, and I tumbled down into a seemingly bottomless darkness.

I do not remember the impact on the ground, perhaps because I lost my consciousness. My next memory is slowly standing up. At first my head was spinning and something like ashes or dust seemed to have gotten stuck in my eyes, so that I could not see anything. But then I managed to wipe it off and look at the landscape around me.

My first impression was that of vast dunes of the ash-like substance being blown about by a strong wind. The sky beyond seemed to also be filled with clouds of ashes or smoke, for it was pale and the light that filtered down from it seemed eerie and directionless. I hardly had time to recover from the shock of this discovery, when a growling sound from behind caused me to spin around. In the gloom behind me, I saw two creatures, very much like the demon that had chased me earlier, except that these specimens were considerably smaller and more goat-like than bull-like in aspect. Fortunately, they were engaged in a fierce struggle with each other and paid no attention to me. Nevertheless, I decided to walk in the other direction as fast as I dared, casting furtive glances over my shoulder from time to time, to see if I was pursued. When I looked back from the ridge of the next high dune, I could make out one of the creatures feasting on the corpse of the other.

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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Intrepid_Wanderer on 2023-07-02 03:32:11+00:00.

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Nothing’s been the same since my sister’s funeral.

It’s been three weeks since I got the phone call that Tracy was hit by a car. As horrible as it sounds, I couldn’t help feeling an odd sense of relief.

It’s not that I didn’t love Tracy. My sister and I… well, she was everything to me. We really only had each other. It wasn’t always that way— we had two brothers and a sister a long time ago. I never wanted to be an only child.

Tracy was always there for me, and I tried so hard to be there for her. I still remember when we were kids and I caught her trying to cover up her bruises with makeup. She told me Dad was hitting her and begged me not to say anything. A month later, my oldest brother found Dad passed out on the couch with his lips blue. By the time the ambulance got there, he didn’t even have a pulse.

Dad was sick for a while, so his death didn’t really surprise anyone. Mom hovered over all of us, especially little Charlotte. Charlotte was kind of sickly already, but now Mom was terrified that Dad’s disease might be genetic. I seriously hoped she was wrong, but Charlotte just faded away. As the two oldest, Tracy and I were usually left to take care of our brothers while Mom worked extra jobs to pay for Charlotte’s funeral.

Tracy and I were the only ones to live past 25. The symptoms slowly caught up with us, and Tracy and I needed each other more than ever. Even as I had to tell her that I was starting to feel the effects of our family’s disease, I made sure she knew how relieved I was that she was still healthy.

When Tracy’s daughter was born, it felt like a fresh start. Mom had always wanted grandkids, and I wished she could see us now. Tracy named the baby Charlotte after our sister, but in a cruel twist of irony, Charlotte died of her namesake’s disease. It was too much for Tracy, who depended on me now more than ever. I did the best I could to console her, but what could I even say?

When I heard that Tracy was hit by that car, I felt a strange sense of relief. It wasn’t that I hated my sister, it really wasn’t. It was just that she was finally out of the reach of the disease that followed us our whole lives. She was all I had left, and it would have destroyed me to see her suffer like that.

I still can’t figure out if I could have prevented this. If I went back in time and did something just a little bit different, could our lives have turned out a different way? That thought won’t stop haunting me.

You see, since Tracy’s funeral, nobody else in our family has been sick. As the weeks passed, even my own symptoms have been disappearing.

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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/YesOkWhateverr on 2023-07-02 02:52:58+00:00.

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I see you're meeting my family! I have just a few rules for your safety. Follow them and you will he 100% safe. Fail to follow them, and you will be put through unimaginable pain and torture. Read these THOROUGHLY, for if you don't, you will not be coming back to my house, and that could be for many reasons.

Rule #1. Please wipe your shoes off on the outside mat! Mother doesn't like it when dirt is tracked into the house. She will immediately kick you out and cause immense bad luck to come your way. If she does, message me. I can give you the counter-curse.

Rule #2. Greet EVERYONE. The cats, my parents, siblings, and even those you cannot see. They don't like being unaddressed. If they go unaddressed, they will take you to the basement. I've never seen what happens in the basement, but I know it isn't good.

Rule #2 a. While you must say hello to them, NEVER make eye contact. They get freaked out when you make eye contact with them, and if they get freaked out, I can't save you from what they may do. Thankfully, people have listened to this rule, don't be the first one to disobey and add on to this rule.

Rule #3. TAKE YOUR SHOES OFF as soon as you get inside. You can have socks on, but NEVER shoes. Father will feel very insulted because leaving your shoes on will make him think you feel unwelcome. He will guide them to you and they will show you the most disgusting and horrendous things. People have died from heart attacks before because of the things shown.

Rule #4. Make sure you NEVER say anything to my little sister, unless saying hello. Most frequently, she will be in her room playing with her dolls. If she isn't, notify me or my older brother IMMEDIATELY. This means there's something very very wrong. If you find her wandering throughout the house, GET OUT. If she's wandering through the house, it means it has taken control of her and it's looking for you. If they find you, they will cause you to feel horrible pain.

Rule #5. My older brother will always be kind, but sometimes, they will imitate him, and if there are two of my brothers in front of you, ALWAYS choose the one to your left. He wants to help you stay safe, and will always be on your left. If you choose the one on the right, you will be taken by them and put through unimaginable torture.

Good luck, friend. I know these rules seem strange, but just know that these are all for your safety. I have seen many come here prior to you and I've had much experience with people. Some just dont like to follow rules. Dont be like them. I hope you follow these rules. If you do, my family will be so kind to you. If not... well... let's not get into that...

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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/thegeneralg on 2023-07-02 02:41:23+00:00.

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My fiancé Grace and I went to my family’s cabin at the lake for a long weekend. Built by my grandfather, it had been the sight of countless cookouts, birthdays, campfires, and holidays. Just walking in the front door brought countless memories rushing back. I’d lived in countless houses over the years, but the cabin had always truly felt like home. Probably because it wasn’t like numerous people had moved in and out of the area over the years. There were over a dozen houses within a 5-mile area, and as far as I could tell, they’d all been owned by the same families for decades. Just like mine had. We may have taken the odd vacation when I was younger, but most of the time we came out here. And that was always just fine with me.

It was an average, two-story cabin, but the minute you walked in, you felt instantly comfortable. The numerous windows in the back facing the lake all featured a beautiful view, and there was a cozy screened in porch in front in addition to a glass enclosed patio that held a table and chairs. Past that was a fire ring we had with some outdoor furniture, and a walkway that led to the lake itself. It was a sight that never failed to be invigorating. Today was no exception, with the gentle breeze that accompanied the waves of the lake as they continually splashed against the shoreline. We got settled in, then we had some pasta and garlic bread for dinner, and soon after that we built a fire outside that we ate some fresh baked cookies around. It was beyond peaceful and a perfect evening.

But when we got up the following day, there was a report that a storm was heading our way. That wasn’t a problem. In fact, watching a storm forming over the lake had always been an amazing sight. You can literally feel it in the air when the pressure changes, and it’s an experience like no other. So Grace and I sat comfortably in the deck chairs while the storm winds rolled in later that evening. As the winds whipped through the air and the temperature immediately dropped about 15 degrees, we watched contently as the waves on the lake splashed against the beach and the break walls surrounding the area. Once the rain started to come down in thick waves, we went inside and sat in the patio and watched the storm hit while we had some coffee.

It was an impressive sight. The waves continually slammed against the shore and the rain pounded against the glass in a strong but relaxing rhythm. Eventually, the storm slowly faded, and all was calm, but everything was soaking wet. This was around the time we went to bed.

The next morning, everything was sunny again. When I went out with my morning coffee to look at the sun looming over the lake, I noticed something laying in the sand near the water’s edge. When I went for a closer look, I saw it was either gold or made to look like gold and was shaped like a medallion and had a small gold chain attached to it. I picked it up, and immediately noticed it was heavier than it looked, and it was inscribed with symbols on both sides that I didn’t recognize.

There’d been no shortage of interesting things that had washed up on the beach in all the time I’d spent here. I had no doubt the storm had either stirred something up that had been stuck underwater, or it had fallen off some boat because of the intense winds.

But there was something different about this. Something unique. This wasn’t some souvenir from one of the many shops that lined the route from here to the city. So I took it inside, put it on the patio table, and had cereal for breakfast.

When Grace came downstairs, she saw me sitting at the patio table and smiled. Then she saw the medallion sitting nearby and glanced at it.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t know. It washed up on the beach.”

“From the storm.”

“Right.”

She tilted her head slightly. “Looks mysterious. Like something out of an antiques collection or a museum.”

“I thought the same thing. I’ll see what I can find out when we get back to the city.”

“Good idea.”

After that we took a hike around the local park and came home for lunch. Then we went to the local movie theater and a nearby restaurant for dinner. A place that served some of the best seafood I’ve ever had. Then we went to the ice cream place next door.

By the time we got home, it was getting dark, and fireflies dotted the air along with the other bugs. As usual, the water and the seagulls could be heard in the background as we unlocked the front door and went inside. The two of us got comfortable on the couch, turned on the TV, and settled in for the evening.

At some point about an hour later, I heard a noise. It was small. So small, I wasn’t sure I’d heard it at first. But then I heard another one, and my heart rate slowly picked up. Then I heard voices outside by the garage. Whispering to each other.

That was when fear truly hit me. Voices whispering outside your house at night are never a good sign. Especially when you hear voices followed by the sounds of them breaking into your garage. I could hear the garage door open and close before the footsteps slowly crept closer to where we were in the sitting room.

Grace and I looked at each other for a moment before we ran as quietly as we could to the dining room. Because underneath the dining room table was a trapdoor that led to a storm shelter that doubled as a secret passageway. I’d spent a ton of time down here when I was younger, but I never seriously thought I’d ever hide down here for real. But that’s usually how it goes. Most people think of hide and seek as just a game to play with your friends. But when you’re an adult, the concept can quickly turn into a matter of life or death.

I crawled under the table, carefully pulled at the small rug that hid the trapdoor and tugged it open. I helped Grace climb down into the storm shelter before I joined her. The rug that hid the trapdoor was positioned in a way so that it didn’t move when the trapdoor was opened, so it always hid the entrance to the passage. I had just barely closed it all the way and moved further down into the passage when I heard the door to the garage open. The quiet creaking was somehow more frightening than if it had been kicked open.

Then all was silent for a moment until the smallest sounds of movement followed. Everything seemed eerily quiet. You could hear them moving around upstairs, just a few feet above our heads. I frantically hoped that the hidden storm shelter stayed hidden, and we both tried to keep as quiet as possible.

It was all so surreal. Sitting there in the dark, while strangers were above us and looking for whatever they were here for, almost felt like a dream. The whole situation seemed like it was unfolding around us, and we were simply there watching whatever was going on. How could this be happening? Why could this be happening? Were they looking for us specifically? Or just for whatever valuables they could find? I got a knot in my throat as I thought of the possibility there could be no reason for this at all. All we could do was hide and not draw attention to ourselves.

The space itself went a long way to give me something resembling hope and peace of mind. The space was deep, well insulated, and carefully hidden. We stood there, amongst the storage boxes and cobwebs, trying to be quiet while frantically paying attention to what was going on around us. I listened to every little sound, trying to discern anything that may tell us something about what was going on. My heart was pounding so loud I thought I could hear it, but I forced myself to calm down to focus on what was going on. They didn’t know we were down here, or where we were, but we knew where they were. And that gave us an advantage. So I listened very carefully. And I noticed several things.

The first was that there were three of them. Or at least, that there were three intruders inside our house. There could’ve been more outside, but I suspected there weren’t. Because that would raise the risk that someone would notice them. So three intruders seemed like the best conclusion. But the second thing I noticed was far more frightening.

The longer we were down there, the more I realized something even more chilling than the fact that we had intruders in the house. These intruders seemed to know the cabin. They walked around with a familiarity that was shocking. There were no sounds that suggested frantic searching or hasty movements. There was nothing but controlled, steady, calculated footsteps throughout the house as the intruders moved logically from one room to another, looking for whatever it was they were after. I frantically wracked my brain to figure out how that was possible, ignoring the fear that was creeping through my body the same way the intruders were creeping through the house.

“If they heard us coming, they couldn’t have gotten far. Their car is still out front.” One of the intruders said once they had finished searching the cabin. I knew from listening that there were two of them nearby, and they were standing far too close to the passage entrance for comfort.

“Right. Or they may be at a friend’s house or something. Either way, they’re not here.”

My stomach sank when I heard the voice of the second person standing nearby. I knew that voice. It was James. My colleague from work. The sense of fear that I had tried to ignore exploded with a fury in my gut, making me feel sickened and angry. I had told him about the cabin, and he’d seen pictures of the place from my time her...

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Content cut off. Read original on https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/14ocyb0/i_found_something_odd_by_the_lake_after_a_storm/

This is an automated archive.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/OkShow7411 on 2023-07-02 02:05:18+00:00.

---

I shuddered as I climbed into my wetsuit, the chilly ocean breeze sending a shiver down my spine. We were a rescue team of divers, tasked with finding a sunken fishing boat and the bodies of the fishermen lost at sea. It was a grim mission, but one that needed to be done.

I took a deep breath and descended into the ocean, the murky water enveloping me. My team and I had spent weeks training for this mission, but nothing could have prepared us for what we were about to face.

As we descended deeper into the ocean, the pressure increased and the visibility decreased. We were in a deep patch of the ocean, miles away from civilization. It was just us and the sound of our own breathing in the darkness.

We finally reached the sunken boat, and my heart sank at the sight. The boat was torn apart, the hull crushed under the weight of the ocean. It was a miracle anyone had survived at all within the first few hours, but now they were surely dead.

We swam around the wreckage, searching for any signs of life. But as we searched, a feeling of unease crept up on me. The water around us was eerily still, and the only sound was the creaking of the damaged boat.

Suddenly, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned to see a massive creature looming in the distance. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before, with tentacles writhing and twisting in the water. It was an ungodly eldritch leviathan, and it was coming straight for us.

It lashed out a tentacle and wrapped around my leg, as I struggled to free myself, but the creature's grip was too strong. I watched in horror as my teammates were devoured one by one, their screams silenced by the water. I knew I had to act fast before it was too late. I reached for my dive knife and thrust straight into the abomination's eye, causing it to release its grip on me.

I swam as fast as I could, my heart pounding in my chest. But the creature was relentless, its massive form chasing after me. I could feel it on the back of my neck, and I knew I was running out of time.

As I broke the surface, I took out my mouthpiece and gasped for air, my lungs burning. I looked back down at the water, and saw the creature retreating back into the depths from which it came. I realized the longer none of my teammates surfaced that I was the only survivor of the rescue team, but I knew that I had to report what had happened. I made my way back to land, my mind still reeling from the encounter. I couldn't believe what I had seen - a creature straight out of a horror story.

As I reported what happened, the authorities didn't believe me at first. But as more divers went into the ocean to investigate, they too encountered the ungodly horror, most not making it back. It was a monster that shouldn't exist, but it did.

The area was declared off-limits, and warnings were posted about the dangers of the deep ocean. But the memory of the creature haunted me for years to come. I couldn't shake the feeling that there were things lurking in the ocean that we couldn't even begin to comprehend.

As for the sunken boat and the lost fishermen, they were never recovered. The eldritch leviathan had claimed them as its own, and it was a reminder that there were forces in the world that we could never hope to control or understand.

This is an automated archive.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Individual-Low9670 on 2023-07-02 01:30:07+00:00.

---

So for this, I'd rather not tell you my real name, or any of my friends. So I'm going to make up fake names.

It was a couple of months ago, and me and my buddies decided to go out on a camping trip. Wanted to hunt some deer and fish. Normal things people would do during camping. We live in Texas so we are pretty big on guns around here, and we brought pistols for the 4 of us and 2 Rifles. Anyways, Devin, messaged me saying,

"Hey, you got everything for the trip?"

"Yeah everythings good."

"K, meet us at Jim's."

Jim's was a famous bar around here, and we often go there to just get filthy drunk. Not one of my best habits, but everyone has their flaws, right? Anyways, we meet up there and everyone talked about what we were going to do when we got there. We decided to drive in "Davids" Van, and we got everything put in there and went on our way. It was about a 45-minute drive before we got there, and we had a little bit of beer. Not enough to make us too tipsy.

We got out and chatted outside for a while, looking at the forest around us. The smell of pine trees was incredibly strong. Everything was overgrown, but one thing was strange, trees had claw marks, and it wasn't just one or two. Dozens had these claw marks. They varied in size and the number of fingers. We kind of brushed it off and didn't really care. After a while, we got done setting up the tent and decided to go ahead and start fishing.

Hours passed and we all were pretty tired and didn't catch anything. I needed to go take a leak and I told the others to head back to the tent and get ready for bed.

I felt anxious going out, and the area around us was pretty open and I had to go far for some privacy. As I got further away and was about to unzip my zipper, something caught the corner of my eye. It just stared at me. My heart started beating and I thought, "Am I just going crazy or something?"

I just looked at it out of the corner of my eye. Watching it. Sometimes it twitched and got a little closer, but most of the time it stayed still. I yelled out, "Hello?"

It responded. "Come here." Its voice sounded exactly like Devins.

"Devin, is that you? The hell are you watching me, man? Get back to the tent I'll be right there."

"Come here."

At this point, I knew something was wrong. I slowly started to back up, my eyes stayed wide, and looked directly at the shadowy figure. Due to that, I tripped on a rock and hit my head. It started to sprint after me, going on all fours, an adrenaline rush hit my head and I ran into the darkness. I screamed at the tent, "Get the guns!" Everyone looked outside the tent and wondered what the hell I was talking about. I sprinted to the tent and closed the door as fast as I could. Everyone calmed me down and asked what I saw.

"There was something watching me. It ran after me! It sounded like you, Devin."

Devin looked at me like I was batshit crazy, "Okay, you're messing with us. Jesus man you really had to do that?"

"Somethings out there! I'm not ly-" A loud scream made the tent silent.

'The fuck was that?" Will said, shaking.

We all sat still, looking at each other. Devin picked up a pistol and told us he was heading outside to find out what was going on.

"Hey man, just be careful." I closed the tent up behind him, I was ready to open it at any time.

Hours passed. He never came back. We three of us stayed inside the tent until the sun came up. We called the police and they searched for days but never found him.

Man, this was hard to write and think about again, but I had a feeling that I needed to tell others about this. If you have any information on what this was, respond in the comments. Thank you.